


Frostbite

by Rainne



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asexual Bucky Barnes, Asexual Character, Awkward Steve Rogers, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Revenge, Sassy Bucky Barnes, brock rumlow has a bad day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27862398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainne/pseuds/Rainne
Summary: Darcy and Steve go on a mission for Tony in a basement lab at Camp Lehigh. While there, they find a piece of cryogenics equipment with the Winter Soldier inside.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Comments: 284
Kudos: 348





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for National Novel Writing Month. It's long. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> This is _not_ a Bucky Recovery-centric fic. It is also not canon compliant; it takes off after Avengers 1 and goes sort of off the rails.
> 
> Thanks to Secondalto and Citymusings for beta reading and cheerleading.

Having an address at 200 Park Avenue, Manhattan, was something Darcy never expected. Living in Stark Tower? Yeah. That wasn’t in the plan. Having a job that involved interplanetary diplomacy? Also something Darcy hadn’t considered might happen. Having a boyfriend who sometimes dressed up in stars and stripes and went out to fight bad guys? Yeah, that was… well. Unexpected.

Of course, that wasn’t a surprise, really. Darcy had _expected_ to graduate from college and then go to Washington and get a job as a lobbyist or with a think tank or, hell, maybe even get a low level position with the DNC. There was nothing in her five-year plan that involved Thor, until suddenly there was.

“We need you in this position,” Phil Coulson had said to her when he offered her the SHIELD job. “You’ve got a degree in political science; you’ve got political experience, even though it’s only at the district levels; and most importantly, Thor likes you. We need you to take this over.”

“Do I get to go to Asgard?” Darcy had asked.

Phil sighed, almost as though he’d expected the question. “If Thor invites you, yes, you may go to Asgard.”

Darcy pumped her fist. “I’m in.”

And so after the Chitauri incursion she had come with Jane to Avengers Tower, only to find that Thor was not, in fact, in residence at the moment. “He had to take his brother back to Asgard to face justice there,” Steve – who was showing them around the private areas of the tower and introducing them to JARVIS – explained while Jane fumed about the fact that Thor hadn’t even called.

“Janey, it’s not like he has your number on speed dial,” Darcy pointed out as she got herself a bowl of cereal in the Avengers’ common room. “He might not even know what phones are for. I bet they’ve got, like, magic phones on Asgard.”

Jane calmed a bit at that. “You might be right,” she admitted. “Still, he could’ve left a note.”

“He didn’t know you’d end up here,” Darcy replied around a mouthful of Froot Loops, as patient as she could be.

“You have a point,” Jane said after a long pause. Then she sighed. “Did he at least say when he’d be back?” she asked Steve.

Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry. He didn’t.”

Jane sighed again. “Well, back to working on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit,” Darcy said.

A little later, Jane headed down to floor 65, where her lab was, and Darcy rinsed out her bowl and put it in the dishwasher.

“Well,” she said to Steve, “I guess I’m going to go unpack.”

“This might be a little abrupt,” Steve said, “but can I take you out sometime?”

“Like… on a date?” Darcy clarified.

Steve nodded, smiling a little shyly.“Yes, like on a date.”

Darcy grinned. “Anytime you want.”

“How about tonight?” Steve asked. “I can pick you up around seven? We can go have dinner? Something casual – nothing you need to dress up for.”

“Sounds great,” Darcy replied. Then she crossed the room, tiptoed, and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Now I really do need to go unpack. See you at seven.”

She entered the elevator and, when she turned around to face the doors, he was watching her with a broad grin on his face. She returned it as the doors slid shut, and then she leaned back against the wall. “Floor 82, please, JARVIS” she said, and the elevator began to descend.

“Hey, JARVIS,” Darcy said suddenly, “Does Steve go on a lot of dates?”

“Captain Rogers has only been in residence in the Tower for a very short time,” JARVIS replied, “but in that time, he has not been on any dates that I am aware of.”

Darcy smiled smugly. “Thanks, JARVIS. You’re a peach.”

“You’re quite welcome, Ms. Lewis.”

~*~

Darcy spent that first day unpacking and trying to pretend she wasn’t freaking out over having a date with _Captain Freaking America_ – but that second part was hard. It was easier, though, when she talked to Jane about it and Jane reminded her that he wasn’t just Captain America but also Steve Rogers, who had tripped over his own feet on the way from the movie room to the gym and nearly fallen. Darcy laughed at that and reminded herself that Steve was a person, not just a persona, and then her butterflies turned into regular ‘got a date with a new guy’ butterflies.

Around five thirty, Darcy quit unpacking and hopped into the shower; by six forty-five, she was ready to go. She was dressed in an oversized cream colored sweater and a pair of black leggings with ankle boots, her hair pulled back and her makeup on point. At seven o’clock precisely, Steve was knocking on her door, and they headed out for pizza at a little place he knew a few blocks down 45th.

Over pepperoni and extra cheese slices, he told her his story. “I grew up poor,” he told her. “Fulton’s Landing – Tony says they call it DUMBO now and it’s… what’s the word he used? Gentrified.”

Darcy nodded. “Full of rich people that push all the original neighborhood out.”

Steve nodded. “I don’t like that.”

“Me either,” Darcy confided. “Nor do a lot of other people.”

“Well. Anyway. Me and Bucky – that’s my best friend, Bucky Barnes – we had a place together after my Ma died of TB, and I drew advertisements and he worked in a grocery store around the corner. That was great because he got a discount.”

“Discount food is the best food,” said Darcy, who remembered very clearly how good a motivator free food was on a college campus.

Steve laughed. “Exactly. And it kept us from eating beans every day for weeks on end.” He took a bite of pizza and Darcy laughed at him when the cheese strings hung down his chin. He grinned ruefully even as his cheeks went a little red.

“So,” he continued, “Bucky got drafted and I was determined to follow him to the front. But I was little at the time – you have to understand, the serum – well, I was _little._ ”

Darcy hummed softly. “I’ve seen pictures; there was a section on you in my high school history book.”

Steve looked dismayed. “There was?”

Darcy nodded. “You’re a pretty important figure in World War II history. Not as important as, say, Churchill or any of the generals or whatever, but still, important. And much more interesting, even though of course everything got truncated or dumbed down for high school students. The academic level stuff is much more in-depth, but I never took any classes about you.”

“People study me?” Steve asked, looking a little distressed.

Darcy bit her lip, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “I mean… you almost single handedly destroyed Hydra. And then of course you vanished into the Arctic or whatever, so… yeah, people are interested in you.”

Steve looked discontented. “I didn’t want that.”

“I don’t think anybody would have wanted that,” Darcy replied. “Unfortunately, we don’t get a say in how our legacies are handled by others after we’re gone.”

“Hm.” Steve grumped for a minute, then shook his head. “Well, you’ll have to stop me if I tell you something you already know.”

“Not a chance,” Darcy replied. “I want to hear about you from _you_ , not from a history book.” She smiled, leaning forward to grab another slice of pizza. “Tell me everything.”

Steve laughed. “I don’t know about  _everything_ ,” he said, “but I’ll try to tell you some stuff that’s new.”

“You already have,” she assured him. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said. “I studied at the Art Students’ League until I joined up.”

“What was that like?” Darcy asked, and Steve lit up, excited to tell her.

He brought her home around ten o’clock and kissed her at the door, and the universe seemed to ring Darcy’s bell at the touch of his lips on hers. She slipped into her apartment and closed the door behind her, leaning against it and smiling dreamily. _I’m gone for this guy,_ she thought to herself, then laughed and headed into the bathroom to wash her face.

~*~

They went out again the next night; this time to see _Battleship._ And the next night, to see _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_ at a tiny throwback theater on 64th. They stayed in for a couple of nights and Darcy introduced Steve to _The Addams Family_. And at no point, Darcy thought to herself when she lay in bed on the fifth night, had Steve been anything other than gentlemanly.

She was going to have to do something about that.

She finally took matters into her own hands. He came home exhausted from a three-day SHIELD mission and she put him to bed immediately, then spent several hours puttering around his apartment, straightening things up and watering his plants and generally being nosy and useful at the same time. When she heard him start to stir, she went to his fridge and got out eggs and bacon and started cooking; he came out following the smell of the bacon and blinked as though surprised to see her still there.

She smiled at him. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” he admitted. “You didn’t have to stay.”

“I wanted to. Besides, your plants needed watering and the lure of snooping through your stuff was more than I could take.”

Steve laughed. “Find anything interesting?”

“Your collection of jazz records,” Darcy replied. “We’re going to have to get you caught up on some more modern stuff.”

He made a face, reaching for a slice of bacon. “I’ve heard modern stuff. I don’t care for it.”

“You haven’t got the cultural background to appreciate where music is today versus where it was when you were young,” Darcy agrees. “I’m not talking about hip-hop and electronica, though. I mean jazz. If that’s what you’re into, that’s what you should listen to. But jazz has changed too, over the last few decades, and we need to get you some new records to listen to. Stuff you’ve never heard before but that you should actually like.”

Steve studied her. “Tony says I need to get with the times and listen to that stuff he listens to.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to develop an appreciation for modern popular music,” Darcy replied, “if for no other reason than it’ll keep you from being miserable anytime we go someplace where there’s music playing. But Tony’s also a douchebag, like, seventy-five percent of the time, and he doesn’t get to dictate your musical tastes.” She handed him another slice of bacon and grinned. “As your girlfriend, that is _my_ job.”

“Oh, are you my girlfriend now?” Steve asked, grinning to take any sting out of his teasing words.

“I am,” Darcy replied loftily. “By decree and fiat.” She served up several fried eggs onto a plate and handed it to him, along with more bacon. “And as your girlfriend, I hereby demand that you eat this and then take me to bed because I’ve been wanting to seduce you for days but there was never a good time, and you were gone for two days and I missed you and I was worried about you.”

He blinked at her. “You want to – ”

“Climb you like a tree? Yes.” Darcy grinned. “And no acting all bashful. I know I’m not your first.”

“Well, no,” he admitted. “I did spend several months on the road with a busload of chorus girls.” He paused, then blushed hard. “They, uh. Taught me a lot.”

“God bless chorus girls,” Darcy murmured, cracking a couple more eggs into the frying pan for herself. “Eat your food.”

So Darcy’s personal life was shaping up perfectly.

~*~

The problem was her professional life; Thor hadn’t come back yet and Jane was no closer to completing the Einstein-Rosen Bridge, and Darcy had nothing to do and she was getting bored.

She spent a week helping Jane in the lab, training the new interns and essentially amusing herself by continuing to do her old job, even though her internship was over. Then she spent a week in Tony’s lab, watching him invent things. Then she tried to spend time in Bruce’s lab, but he said an audience made him nervous, so she left again.

A bored Darcy was not a good Darcy, and so she presented herself in Pepper’s office one morning about seven forty-five. “I need a job,” she said to Pepper, “and I figure you’re the best person to give me one.”

Pepper blinked. “I thought you had a job,” she said. “Diplomatic liaison to Asgard?”

Darcy shrugged. “Nothing to liaise if Thor isn’t here,” she pointed out. “I’m getting bored.”

“How would you like to ride herd over Bruce and Tony?” Pepper said immediately. “I can’t get a PA for Tony that will stay longer than a couple of weeks, but he likes you so he might be more cooperative.”

“Sounds perfect,” Darcy agreed. “Is there a to-do list?”

“A mile long,” Pepper confirmed.

“Email it to me and I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll make sure JARVIS knows you can access Tony’s office,” Pepper replied. “Welcome aboard. HR will email you all the forms you need to fill out and if you can last longer than a month, you’ll have my eternal gratitude.”

Darcy grinned, and it was a shark’s grin. “You’re going to be amazed,” she said.

And that was how Darcy became the Mistress of the Science Labs; JARVIS gave her access where she needed it and her job became, to a certain extent, fetching and carrying for Tony and Bruce. She brought them papers that needed filling out, she chivvied them out of the labs when it was time to eat or socialize and – as today – she went looking for things they needed that couldn’t be found anywhere except some esoteric location like a shut down lab in Wheaton, New Jersey, where Howard Stark used to work.

“Camp Lehigh?” Steve asked as Darcy puttered around her bedroom, getting ready for the day. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” Darcy asked.

“That’s where I went to basic training,” Steve explained. He brightened. “Hey, can I come with you?”

“The more, the merrier,” Darcy replied. “I sure wasn’t looking forward to digging through some creepy basement lab all on my own, that’s for sure.”

Steve rolled out of bed. “Let me get a shower,” he said. “We’ll get breakfast on the way.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They took Tony’s Lexus to Wheaton; it had the trunk space they’d need for the equipment Tony wanted and it was comfortable to ride in. Darcy insisted on driving; Steve had learned to operate motor vehicles in a war zone and it showed. It was bad enough when he wanted her to ride his bike with him, even though he was much more careful when she was on the back. She didn’t fancy fearing for her life through the New York to New Jersey traffic.

The drive took a little over an hour, and when they arrived, the place was totally deserted. “Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” Darcy said, looking around. “Gross.” She pulled her phone out and shot off a text to Tony complaining about the state of the place. _You could have warned me!_

“Well, come on,” Steve said. “Let’s check the place out. Where’s the lab supposed to be?”

“Underground,” Darcy said. She checked a map of the compound that she had on her phone and then pointed. “That building.”

Steve nodded. “I’m glad you decided to let me come along,” he said as they trudged through the dirt toward the building in question. “I don’t like to think of you out here by yourself.”

“I don’t like to think of that, either,” Darcy agreed, “so I’m really glad you offered.” Her phone beeped and she checked her texts; it was Tony, replying. _Sorry,_ the message said. _Forgot._

“I’ll show you _forgot_ ,” Darcy muttered, then pulled out the keys Tony had given her and unlocked the padlock that secured the building door. “Okay,” she said. “Here goes.”

Steve pulled the door open and they both jerked back from the rush of stale air that escaped from the building. “Ugh,” Steve complained.

“Gross,” Darcy agreed. They waited a minute until the light breeze had had a chance to get inside, and then they entered the building’s lobby. “Is the power even on?”

Steve looked around and found a light switch; flipping it, he sighed in relief when the lights came on. “Good,” he said.

Darcy nodded. “Bodes well for the elevators to still work.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, we’re not taking an elevator,” Steve replied. “That’s the quickest way I can think of for us to end up trapped and starving to death. No, we’re finding the stairs.”

“Fine, but you’re carrying anything heavy,” Darcy replied.

“It really is a good thing I came along,” Steve commented. “You’d be dead in the elevator.”

“The elevator is probably perfectly safe,” Darcy replied, locating the stairwell. “You’re just paranoid.”

“Better paranoid than dead,” Steve said cheerfully, pulling the stairwell door open.

“Phew,” Darcy said, waving a hand in front of her. “The stink in this place just gets worse and worse.”

Steve found the stairwell lights and flipped them on, then the two of them headed downstairs. The lab they were looking for was at the very bottom, two floors down, and it was, if possible, even more fetid than the floors above. “No airflow,” Steve commented as Darcy coughed. “Upstairs at least has leaky windows and drafty outer doors. Nothing doing down here.”

“We should have brought masks,” Darcy said, unlocking the door and passing through it. “I bet this place is full of asbestos.”

“What are we looking for?” Steve asked.

“Couple of things,” Darcy replied. She showed him photographs on her phone. “It’s some kind of equipment; he wants to tear it apart and reverse engineer it or improve it or add rocket thrusters or something.”

“Rocket thrusters sounds right,” Steve agreed. “All right, do we want to start at the front and work our way back, or start at the back and work our way to the front?”

Darcy looked around at the huge room they stood in. “Well, this is all boxes,” Darcy pointed out. “They look like document boxes. Let’s head to the back instead and see what we can find.”

They did just that, heading for the back of the room, and by mutual agreement started working in the southwest corner. They came across one of the pieces of equipment Tony wanted in fairly short order, and Steve carried it over to set it by the staircase. Then he returned to Darcy, who was standing in front of a tall tube-like piece of machinery placed against the wall. “This is weird,” she said when he approached her. “This is on.”

“What do you mean it’s on?” he asked.

“Just what I say. It’s on – it’s running. Listen; you can hear it humming.”

Steve listened and did, in fact, hear the electricity humming as it ran the machine. “How weird,” he commented.

“That’s what I said.”

“I wonder what it is.” He paced in a semicircle around it and then said, “Look at this – it looks like a window.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “You know, it makes me think of a space capsule design from like the 1950s or ’60s. It’s big enough for a person.”

Steve laughed. “Well, I’m pretty sure there’s not going to be a person in here,” he said, reaching up to wipe at the grime on the window. And then he gasped, because on the inside of the window, he could clearly see the outline of a hand.

~*~

Darcy called Tony and had hysterics over a _person_ being in the lab; Steve had to take the phone away from her and explain what they’d found. Tony said he’d come immediately, putting aside everything else, and true to his word he arrived about thirty minutes later. He came down in the elevator and Darcy was able to calm down enough to give Steve a look that said _see?_ before catching another glimpse of the person-capsule and nearly getting hysterical again.

Tony stepped out of his armor in front of the elevator door and crossed the room swiftly, stopping in front of the capsule and peering into the window before turning back to Steve. “That’s definitely a person,” he said. He put his hand to the tube’s casing. “This is cold,” he said, wiping his hand on his jeans, and then he started poking around the other parts of the machine, examining them closely. “Holy shit,” he said after a moment.

“What?” Steve asked.

“This is cryogenics,” Tony said. “Whoever’s in there has been cryogenically frozen.”

“Cryo – what?” Steve said. “You mean they _froze_ a person?”

Tony nodded.

“What the hell was your dad into?”

Tony shook his head. “This wasn’t dad’s,” he said. “I’d swear it. It wasn’t here the last time I was.”

“When was that?” Steve asked.

“Just after he and Mom died,” Tony replied. “1992. This was not here; I came through this whole place, and I’d _definitely_ have noticed a cryogenics tube sitting here.”

“So it’s new,” Steve said. “Somebody else is using this place as storage.”

“Apparently, but I don’t know who it would be,” Tony said. “The only other people who have keys are – ” he stopped.

“Are who?” Steve demanded.

Tony stared at him. “SHIELD,” he said after a moment. “SHIELD has access to this place.” He pulled out his phone. “We need Bruce.”

~*~

“Why all the secrecy on the phone, Tony?” Bruce asked as he entered the basement lab, Natasha and Clint behind him.

“Because I don’t know who might be listening,” Tony replied. “And this is important.”

Tony’s uncharacteristic seriousness got Bruce’s attention. “All right,” he said. “What have you got?”

“What do you know about cryogenics?” Tony asked, leading Bruce toward the back of the lab.

“That they’re at least fifty years out, if not more, and – holy _moly_ , is that what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a cryogenic freezer, then yes,” Tony replied.

“Tony,” Bruce said, standing stock still. “Is there someone in that freezer?”

“Yes,” Tony replied. “That’s why I need you. We are, after all, geniuses – both of us. Between the two of us, we ought to be able to figure out how to transfer this thing into the jet without killing the guy inside, right?”

“Right,” Bruce replied. “Right, we can absolutely do that.”

Natasha folded her arms, leaning against a cabinet beside where Darcy was standing. “So this is not what any of us expected out of today.”

“No, definitely not,” Darcy agreed, her voice still shaky.

“You okay?” Natasha asked.

Darcy shook her head. “I will be,” she said. “But right now I’m still hung up on this. And imagining if I’d come out here by myself and found him.”

“If you’d come out here yourself, you’d have gone down the elevator and gotten stuck forever,” Natasha replied.

“Steve said that, too, but Tony came down in the elevator just fine!”

Natasha laughed softly, shaking her head. They watched as Tony and Bruce examined the machine and then finally made a pronouncement. “We can move it,” they said. Tony continued, “We’ll need a generator to keep it powered up, but it can be moved and we can move it. We’re going to move it.”

“I’ll go put the cargo ramp down on the jet,” Clint said.

“You brought the jet?” Darcy asked.

Clint laughed. “How do you think we got here so fast?” He turned then and jogged off up the stairs.

Darcy approached the freezer tube cautiously. “Is he… is he okay in there?”

“We don’t know,” Bruce admitted. “He might be okay; he might be dead; he might be permanently damaged. We’re not going to know until we get him out of there.”

“If he’s dead in there, I’m going to throw up,” Darcy warned.

Bruce gave her a grim smile. “You’re probably not the only one.”

Tony found a generator and it was – miracle of miracles – still in working order. Clint and Natasha took the Lexus to the nearest gas station and came back with a five gallon canister full of gasoline for him to run it with. They found a pallet jack on the back side of the lab, still with an empty pallet on it, and Steve hefted the generator onto the pallet. Then he carefully lifted the freezer itself while Natasha maneuvered the pallet jack under it. They drew it away from the wall carefully.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony said. “This thing’s just using a plain old plug.”

“Okay,” Bruce said, reaching for the plug. “Cross your fingers I don’t overload any circuits and short this thing out and kill the poor guy.”

Everyone crossed their fingers, and Bruce snatched the plug out, whirling and plugging it immediately into the generator. He was fast enough that the freezer never quite managed to shut down, and it kept going once it was plugged back in.

Bruce and Tony let out twin sighs of relief. “All right,” Tony said. “Let’s get this thing into the jet.”

It took a lot of maneuvering and a lot of teamwork – and a lot of Steve’s super strength just pushing the thing up the cargo ramp – but they finally got the freezer into the jet. Clint went up front to fly the plane while Steve and Tony strapped the tube down; everyone else found seats and buckled themselves in. Steve and Tony did the same once they were sure the freezer wasn’t going anywhere, and Clint lifted the jet off the ground without so much as a bump.

As they crossed New Jersey, Tony called Happy to make arrangements for the Lexus to be retrieved. Then he looked over at Steve. “I can’t complain about you,” he said. “You’re kind of a sanctimonious prick, but you do bring me interesting presents.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve replied, smirking. “You’re kind of a smarmy asshole, but I like you just the same.”

Tony laughed.

Twenty minutes later, Clint set the jet down on the landing pad on floor 81 and lowered the cargo hatch again. Once again it was a group effort to get the freezer tube out of the plane, but once it was out, it was easy to navigate across the common room and into the freight elevator; they only had to move the furniture to make space for the pallet jack to pass across the carpet.

Natasha frowned in the jack’s wake. “Pepper’s going to kill us when she sees these rust marks on the carpet,” she said.

“I’ll get someone to clean it; it’ll be fine,” Tony said breezily. “No worries.”

“You say that now,” Natasha warned him darkly, but he ignored her in favor of helping Steve maneuver the pallet jack into the freight elevator.

“My workshop,” Tony said to the rest of the group. “It’s one of the most secure locations in the tower and I can tell you everything else you need to know while I tinker with our freezer pop.” He and Steve went down together in the freight elevator; everyone else moved for the regular elevator and went down together to the 79th floor.

“All right,” Tony said as Steve and Bruce manhandled the freezer tube off the pallet jack and onto the floor, “the other thing I didn’t tell any of you while we were at Lehigh is that – as I told Steve – this thing was _not_ in that lab in 1992, and the only other people who have access down there besides me are SHIELD.”

Clint stiffened. “SHIELD?”

Tony nodded. “So we might want to start thinking about why SHIELD might be storing a frozen guy in a lab nobody uses any more.”

“I can think of a number of reasons,” Natasha said. “None of them are good.”

Tony pointed a finger at her. “I’m having the same thoughts as you,” he said simply.

There was a moment of nervousness as they reversed Bruce’s earlier process and plugged the freezer into the power, and then Tony cut the generator. “Now.” He turned to the freezer. “JARVIS, buddy, tell us what we’re looking at.”

JARVIS displayed a schematic of the machine in midair and they surrounded it, studying it. He labeled the parts he could identify and left the parts he couldn’t with blank arrows. Then he said, “I believe, sir, that the machine _can_ be disabled safely.”

“Is the guy inside alive?” Steve asked.

“That is a question I cannot answer, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS replied. “Unfortunately, life signs are largely heat based, and the ones that aren’t, such as heartbeat, are entirely suppressed due to the cryogenic process. Simply put, I will paraphrase what emergency responders often say of freezing victims: he’s not dead until he’s _warm_ and dead.”

“So we have no way of knowing until we take him out,” Steve mused. “I don’t like our odds.”

“I don’t either,” Bruce said frankly. “There’s too many variables. Tony, did you see any schematics or anything like that?”

“You saw what I saw,” Tony replied.

“We didn’t really look, though,” Natasha pointed out. “Clint and I will go back.”

“Don’t take too long if you can help it,” Steve said, staring at the tube. “I want to get this guy out as soon as we can. If he’s alive, he deserves that from us.”

Natasha nodded, and she and Clint took off back to the jet. The rest of them stood around, awkwardly staring at the tube. “Well,” Darcy said suddenly, “what do we do now?”

“All we can do now is wait,” Bruce told her. “Until we have more to go on, I’m afraid to do anything.”

Darcy moved slowly, nervously, up to the front of the tube and tiptoed to look into the window. “I can’t see his face,” she said softly.

“No,” Tony said, and his voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “You probably wouldn’t want to right now. I don’t imagine being frozen is a pleasant experience, and that would show on his face. You don’t need those nightmares.”

Darcy shuddered.

They stood around, talking in low voices, for about an hour, until Natasha and Clint returned. Natasha had an armload of folders and both of them wore grim expressions. “It’s not good,” Clint said as Natasha spread the folders out on one of Tony’s worktables.

“It’s the Winter Soldier,” Natasha said, picking up a folder with Cyrillic script on the front. “I don’t expect any of you to have heard of him. He’s an assassin. He worked for the Red Room when I was there.”

“So he’s bad?” Steve queried.

Natasha started to speak, paused, then sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. When I knew him… he was only half a person. He had a personality, intelligence, even a basic sense of humor… but he had no sense of _self._ He didn’t even have a name; we just called him Солдат.”

“That doesn’t sound...” Darcy tried to articulate what it didn’t sound like and failed.

“Dangerous?” Clint asked. “Oh, he’s very dangerous. He’s credited with something like twenty confirmed kills – mostly high level assassinations.”

“So are we taking him out of the ice or leaving him in?” Bruce asked.

“Oh, we’re taking him out,” Natasha said. “He deserves a chance. Just like I had.” She shared a look with Clint.

“All right,” Tony said, looking over at the tube. “Then let’s get to work.”


	2. Chapter 2

They started going through the paperwork together, looking for schematics or other information. It was Steve who found the instructions, his rudimentary Russian skills allowing him to read the word _REMOVAL_ at the top of a page. Natasha read it over and nodded. “This is it,” she said. “This is how we get him out. JARVIS, can you scan and translate, please?”

JARVIS obligingly did so and the instructions appeared a moment later in midair. “All right,” Natasha said. She looked over the Russian paper and then checked the translation before nodding. “Looks good,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

“Everyone stand back, please,” Bruce said. “If this thing explodes...”

“Oh, come on, Brucey, it’s not going to explode,” Tony scoffed, but the others all moved back anyway.

Tony and Bruce began going down the checklist of how to remove the Soldier from the tube; the others watched anxiously as minutes ticked by. Finally, Tony said “All right, we’re ready.”

Bruce nodded, reached out, and pressed a sequence on the button keypad beside the tube’s door.

Immediately the tube started beeping, and there was a loud hiss of pressure escaping from the back of the machinery. The window of the tube fogged over, but everyone could see a moment later when the hand that had been pressed against it fell away. And then the door clicked and swung open.

The figure inside took a step forward, then swayed and would have fallen but for Steve’s fast reflexes; he darted forward and caught the man around the waist, drawing him out. “Somebody get me a chair!” he exclaimed, and Tony grabbed the closest thing – a stool – and brought it. Steve helped the man sit down and then held him up until he could hold himself up.

The man who had emerged from the tube was muscular but a sickly pale, with lank black hair that hung down over his eyes and hid his face. He was barefoot and dressed in something like nurse’s scrubs. Darcy’s eyes, though, were glued to his left arm; it was made of metal, from the fingertips to the exposed shoulder: shining, interlocking plates of metal that shifted and hummed.

The man spoke. “Готов подчиниться,” he rumbled.

“Shit,” Tony murmured.

“Do you speak English?” Steve asked the man gently.

He raised his head then, shaking his hair back and looking at Steve’s face. “Ready to comply.”

Steve stared at him, horror-stricken. He vapor locked for a full thirty seconds before choking out, “Bucky?”

There was a long moment of silence before the man sitting on the stool said, “I – what?”

“Bucky!” Steve said again.

“Bucky?” Darcy blurted. “As in _Barnes_?”

“Yes,” Steve confirmed, looking over at her. “This is him. This is _Bucky._ I don’t know how, but...” He looked back down at Bucky. “Bucky, do you know who I am?”

There was a long, tense silence. And then Bucky – or the man who looked just like him – said, “No?”

“I’m Steve,” Steve said, and he sounded near tears now. He went down on one knee in front of Bucky. “Buck, I’m Steve. I – we’ve – I’m your best friend. You’ve known me your whole life. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes and I’m Steve Rogers and – and – oh, God.”

“Steve,” Bruce murmured. “Let me do a quick physical exam, please. I need to make sure he’s all right. He’s been frozen for God knows how long.”

Steve nodded, but only stepped back when Bruce physically shouldered his way in between him and Bucky. “Hi,” Bruce said, pulling up another stool and taking a seat. “I’m Bruce. I’m a medical doctor – or, well, sort of. The closest thing we have right now, anyway. Do you know your name?”

Bucky’s eyes slid to Steve and then back to Bruce. “Bucky?” he guessed.

Bruce smiled. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

Bucky took a breath. “Asking,” he admitted.

“Thank you for being honest,” Bruce said. “We’re going to call you Bucky for now, because Steve seems pretty sure. Unless you have something else you’d rather be called.”

Bucky shook his head. Bruce nodded. “All right. Bucky, can you tell me what the last thing is that you remember?”

“I – I had a mission,” Bucky replied. “One target, level four. And then standard debrief procedures and then...” His voice trailed off and he gestured eloquently toward the tube.

Bruce nodded. He listened to Bucky’s heart and lungs, checked his eyes with a small flashlight, and had a look down his throat. “Well, as far as I can tell, you appear to be in good health,” he said. “I think as soon as we can, we should get you into Medical to have a full workup – nothing invasive, just a proper physical and maybe an MRI to make sure you don’t have any internal damage. That’s all.”

Bucky nodded. “I’ll comply,” he said softly. Then he said, “What’s my mission, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir,” Bruce replied, his tone kind. “I’m not in charge of you. I’m Bruce.”

“Bruce,” Bucky repeated. “What’s my mission?”

“You don’t have one,” Steve said, riding over anyone else who might have spoken. “No mission. I’m going to take care of you.”

Bucky looked over at Steve. “No mission?”

Steve shook his head. “Just to get better,” he said. “We’ll… we’ll work on your memory.”

“I...” Bucky paused, looking around the room. “May I ask a question?”

“Always,” Tony blurted, looking stricken. “You can always ask questions, any question you want.”

Bucky nodded, then took a deep breath. “Where am I?”

~*~

In the hallway, Darcy wrapped her arms around Steve and held him close while he took his turn to have quiet hysterics. “Are you absolutely _sure_ that’s Bucky?” Darcy asked when he was capable of speaking again.

“Absolutely sure,” Steve replied, gripping her arms and holding on tight. “Darce…”

She nodded. “This is going to be a tough one,” she said. “He seems like he doesn’t know you and if he doesn’t know you, he probably doesn’t remember anything.”

“I’ll remember for him,” Steve said firmly, his jaw set.

Darcy hugged him tight and very carefully did not say _That may not be enough._

They went back into the lab, and Bucky was in the process of explaining about his metal arm. Tony was moving some kind of wand around it and looking troubled. He looked up when Steve and Darcy came back in. “We’ve got a tracker,” he said. “And a couple of other worrisome pieces. I’m going to need to open this up.”

“Is that in the paperwork?” Steve asked.

“Oh, I know how to open it,” Bucky replied. “There are release buttons.” He reached across himself and manipulated a spot on his bicep; a panel on the front of his arm opened and they got a look at the insides.

“Jesus,” Tony said, bending forward. “This tech is years ahead of where it should be. Who put this on you, aliens?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “They…” he paused, looking around nervously.

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “You can tell us.”

“I’m… not allowed to remember things,” he admitted softly.

“Not allowed?” Clint asked. “How can they stop you?”

“Never ask that question,” Natasha said as Bucky took a breath to speak.

“The chair makes me forget,” Bucky said, his tone indicating that he thought he was speaking to someone who was a little mentally defective. “That’s what it’s for.”

“Chair?” Steve asked. He looked at the others. “Did we see a chair?”

Darcy shook her head slowly, wandering around the lab room in her memory. “No, not that I can remember,” she said. She looked over at Bucky. “Bucky, can you tell us anything about this chair? I don’t think we have it.”

Bucky looked unhappy. “If I tell you about it, are you going to get it?”

“We’d like to know if we find it,” Darcy replied, “but if it makes you forget, we’re not going to use it. We want you to remember.”

He looked skeptical, but he said, “You’d know it if you saw it. It’s big and black, and it has pieces that go around your head.” He demonstrated with his hands.

“And those pieces around your head are for…?” Bruce asked, looking like he didn’t really want to know.

“That’s where the electricity comes from,” Bucky said softly.

Steve visibly stopped himself from moving, and Bucky flinched, just a little bit. Steve immediately looked stricken. “Sorry, Buck,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Bucky didn’t respond, merely continued to look at Steve a little warily. But then, that was no different from the way he was looking at everyone else. Natasha, who had been quiet up until now, spoke after a moment. “Do you remember anything about your last mission?”

“One target, level four,” Bucky repeated, as he’d said earlier. “I set a bomb. They said… they said I did well.”

Natasha nodded. “I’m sure you did,” she said firmly. “Nobody has any complaints about your performance.”

Bucky nodded, pushing his hair back nervously. “I set a bomb and watched it go off,” he repeated. “Confirmed kill. Then I came back to base and was debriefed. Then I was put back into storage.”

Steve made a noise at the word _storage_. Nobody looked at him except Bucky, who still appeared wary. “It’s standard,” he said, as though trying to soothe Steve.

Steve didn’t look soothed, but Darcy rubbed her hand up and down his arm. “It’s okay,” she murmured.

Tony looked up from the interior of Bucky’s arm. “Bruce, hand me that pair of needle nosed pliers, will you?”

Bruce complied, and Tony dug into Bucky’s arm, pulling out a small, blinking item. “Tracker,” he said, satisfied. “JARVIS, track the signal, please.”

“Locking on,” JARVIS replied. “This may take some time.”

“Take as long as you need,” Tony told him, dropping the tracker onto the tabletop nearby. He looked up at Bucky. “What do you know about the interior of this thing?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m not authorized for that information.”

“Well, I’m going to have to do some more digging,” Tony said. “There are things in here I’m not sure about, but at least one of them appears to be some kind of dosing mechanism and we’re going to want that out.”

“Oh, that’s in case I need to be decommissioned,” Bucky blurted, then looked surprised at himself.

“Decommiss-” Tony stopped himself. “I see. That definitely has to come out.”

“But…” Bucky frowned.

“Nope. Coming out. No telling if it can be remotely triggered and we don’t want whoever had you to be able to trigger it.”

“The signal responds to a transponder, sir,” JARVIS interrupted. “The receiver is located in Washington, DC. Unfortunately, I am unable to pinpoint the location any closer; the arm itself may be of very advanced make but the transponder and receiver are older technology and lack precision.”

“That’s okay, JARVIS,” Tony replied. “You did your best.” Then he looked at the others. “I vote for destroying the tracker before anybody figures out we have this guy.”

“Seconded,” Clint agreed.

The rest of them all nodded, and Tony dropped the little blinking device on the floor and stepped on it, crushing it under his heel. “Right, then,” he said, looking up at Bucky. “With any luck, they don’t even know we have you.”

“Who?” Bucky asked.

Tony grinned. “Whoever we stole you from.”

“You’re… you’re really not my handlers?”

“We’re your friends,” Steve said, and his voice was soft and sad. “We – you don’t have handlers any more. But we’re going to take care of you.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, looking as though he didn’t really know what those words meant. “Okay.”

~*~

Brock Rumlow was having a bad day.

First he got a speeding ticket on his way to work, then he spilled coffee on himself in the mess hall. That bitch Joanie in Accounting still wouldn’t give him the time of day, and Rollins had laughed at him for trying (again). And now. Now this.

One of the scientists found him and took him aside into an empty office. “It’s the Asset, sir.”

“What are – you mean that frozen thing in New Jersey?”

“Yes, sir,” the little egghead said. “Its transponder went off this morning.”

Rumlow had to think about this. He would be one of the top people on the Asset’s team when it was active, but it hadn’t been activated in his tenure. Still, because of his position, he had studied the thing and knew a hell of a lot about it. “That’s not supposed to happen unless it gets warmed up,” he said.

“Exactly, sir,” the scientist replied. “It’s apparently warmed up.”

“How the hell did that happen?” Rumlow demanded, getting in the scientist’s face.

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” the scientist replied, straightening up and looking uncowed. “ _I’m_ not in charge of its security.”

That was a blow – _Rumlow_ was in charge of Asset security. And he was supposed to be checking on it every month, making sure it was still in its tube, undisturbed, blah blah blah. So what if he hadn’t actually gone in about six months? Nobody went to Lehigh any more; the place was a ghost town. The building wasn’t safe, the place always stank of dead air and mildew, and the Asset wasn’t fucking going anywhere.

Only now…

Shit.

“I’ll take care of it,” Rumlow growled. “You keep your fucking mouth shut about this. If anybody needs to know, I’ll be the one to tell them.”

“Suits me,” the scientist replied. “ _I_ don’t want to be the bearer of that kind of news.”

“Where’s the tracker now?”

“It’s dead,” the scientist replied. “It was in Jersey, then it moved to New York, and now it’s stopped sending.”

“New York?” Rumlow replied, confounded. “What the hell?”

The scientist shrugged. “Got me.”

Rumlow shook his head. “Okay. I guess I’m headed to New Jersey.”

He got Rollins and Harris to go with him; they were the two most senior members of Strike Team Alpha besides him, and he might need them if somebody was hanging around Lehigh.

Nobody was, but they’d obviously been there. There were fresh tire tracks in the dirt, and…

“Are those jet landing wheels?” Harris asked, pointing to a set of marks in the middle of a huge swathe of dead grass.

“Fuck,” Rumlow said. “Yes.”

“Who the hell has a VTOL jet that would be at Lehigh?” Rollins wondered.

Rumlow shook his head. “I have no fucking idea.” He pulled a key ring out of his pocket. “Let’s go see what’s going on downstairs.”

The tracks in the dust were obvious; _a lot_ of people had been in and out of this building very recently. There were tracks making their way to the fire stairs and other tracks – including some kind of drag marks? - coming in and out of the elevator.

“Fuck,” Rumlow said, and the three of them piled into the elevator, heading downstairs to check it out.

When they reached the empty spot where the Asset’s cryo tube had been, Rumlow felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. “ _Fuck,_ ” he said vehemently.

“Oh, shit,” Rollins muttered.

“This is bad.” Harris pushed a hand through his hair. “This is very bad.”

“You’re not kidding,” Rollins agreed. He looked over at Rumlow. “What are we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna figure out who took the fucking thing,” Rumlow replied. “Then we’re gonna go get it back and we’re gonna kill every last one of them.”

“All right,” said Harris. “What do we know? We know New York, we know VTOL aircraft, and we know several people were involved.”

“New York,” Rumlow said. Something was ringing in his brain. “New York. Who’s in New York?”

“Oh, shit,” Rollins said suddenly. “Whose fucking _lab_ is this?”

“It’s an old Stark lab from the fifties – ” Rumlow began, and then stopped. “New York. VTOL aircraft. _Stark._ ”

“ _Fuck_ ,” said Rollins, full of feeling.

“You can say that again,” Harris agreed, and Rollins did.

“How the hell are we going to get that back from Stark?” Rumlow demanded.

Harris and Rollins were silent.

Rumlow slumped against the wall. “ _Fuck._ ”

And then Rollins looked up. “What about Zola?”

Oh, shit, Rumlow thought. If Stark had found Zola…

“Let’s go check.”

They trooped back to the elevator and piled in. Rumlow pushed the button for the ground floor and the doors slid shut. The elevator rose. Then there was a grinding sound. Then the elevator stopped.

“What the fuck?” Rumlow muttered.

“Shit,” Harris said. “We’re stuck.”

Rollins pulled out his cell phone and looked at it. “Either of you got reception? Because I got zero bars.”

Brock Rumlow was having a _very bad day_.

~*~

“Food might be a bad idea,” Bruce warned as the group of them trooped from Tony’s lab to the common area. “His gut bacteria have been frozen along with him, and they may or may not have survived.”

“So what do you suggest?” Steve asked, turning toward the kitchen.

“A protein shake to start,” Bruce replied. “Something with a mild flavor, probably vanilla. If that stays down, we can proceed to the BRAT diet – that’s bananas, rice, apples, and toast. It’s what you feed people who’ve had stomach or digestive issues. Then if _that_ stays down, we can progress farther.”

“All right,” Steve said. He went into the kitchen and assembled the ingredients for a protein shake, putting it all through the blender before bringing it to Bucky.

He sniffed it warily. “This is not my nutrient drink,” he said carefully.

“No, but hopefully it’ll do the same trick,” Steve replied. “If you have to throw up, though, run for the bathroom, okay?”

Somebody had already been in and cleaned up the rusty tracks of the pallet jack from the carpet, but Steve didn’t fancy the idea of having to clean up puke, even if it was just protein shake puke. He had a sympathetic gag reflex; if he had to watch Bucky vomit, or clean up puke, he was likely to lose his own lunch.

Bucky sipped cautiously at the shake while everyone watched him, then looked at it in surprise. “This is…”

“What is it, Buck?” Steve asked carefully. “Is it bad?”

“No!” Bucky exclaimed, taking another sip. “It is… it is…” He searched for the words for a long moment before coming up with “Flavorful.”

Darcy suddenly smiled for the first time since discovering that there was a person inside the cryo capsule. “It’s good, then,” she said softly.

Bucky looked up at her, and she saw gratitude in his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “It’s good.” Then he took another drink of it.

He managed to keep it down, though there was a moment where they weren’t sure, and Bruce declared that protein shakes should be the limit of his diet for a couple of days, just until he stopped feeling queasy after drinking one. “Try different flavors and ingredients, though,” Bruce said. “Peanut butter should be a good one. And Bucky, I want you to have one any time you feel hungry.”

“Hungry?” Bucky asked.

“I – ” Bruce paused.

Natasha stepped in. “When you need to eat,” she said. “Any time you feel like you need nutrients.”

“Ah,” Bucky said. “Hungry. All right.” He studied the kitchen doorway and pass through. Then he looked back at Natasha. “Who do I report to?”

“About…?”

“About… being hungry?”

Darcy’s heart broke, just a little bit.

Natasha shook her head. “Any of us,” she said. “Or you can make a shake yourself, once you know how. We’ll show you.”

Bucky nodded, then buried his face in his cup and drank some more of his shake.

Steve went back into the kitchen to get away from the sight of Bucky in his scrubs with his milkshake. Darcy followed him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “”You gonna be okay?” she asked softly. “I know this is hard.”

He turned in her arms and pulled her close. “I never imagined getting him back,” he said softly. “But even if I had…”

“It wouldn’t have been like this.” Darcy nodded. “I know.”

He nodded. “This is like a dream wrapped up in a nightmare. It’s him… but he doesn’t even know himself, much less me.”

“We’ll fix it,” Darcy promised him. “I don’t know how, but we’ll find a way to fix it.”

Steve nodded again, resting his forehead against the crown of her head for a minute. Then he said, “Should we make food for the others?”

“Maybe just sandwiches,” she said. “We don’t want to make anything hot that smells really good that he can’t have; that would be mean.”

He nodded and went to get the bread. Clint came to help and the three of them formed an assembly line, building sandwiches and stacking them on plates while Tony, Bruce, and Natasha watched Bucky drink his shake. Tony and Bruce were talking quietly about Bucky and his probable physical needs; Natasha simply came and sat down next to Bucky on the couch. She didn’t say anything to him and, after a sidelong look, he didn’t say anything to her either. Instead, he focused on his shake.

When the glass was empty, he looked into it mournfully. Darcy, who was bringing sandwiches out for everyone, caught the face. “Do you want more?” she asked him.

He studied her as though looking for a trap. She said, “It’s all right to want more. We’ll make it if you want it.”

“Yes,” he said, and she held out her hand for the glass. He gave it to her and Steve quickly put together another shake for him, which he drank while they ate their sandwiches. Then Darcy said, “You know, he can’t live in those scrubs.”

“True,” Bruce agreed. “He doesn’t even have shoes.”

“JARVIS, work your magic,” Tony said.

“Be more specific,” JARVIS replied.

“He needs jeans, shirts, socks, underwear, and a pair of sneakers,” Natasha said. “Basic things. Anything aside from that, we can go out and get once he’s comfortable.”

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS said, and after a moment’s pause, “The delivery is expected by mid-afternoon.”

“How did you know his size?” Steve wondered, baffled.

“I took his measurements in the laboratory,” JARVIS replied. “Along with his vital signs and the schematics of the arm.”

“Oh,” Steve said.

Bucky looked up at him. “You’re Steve,” he said.

“Yeah, Buck, I am.” Steve nodded.

“You said… you said we were friends.”

“We were,” Steve replied. “We are. We grew up together, me and you, a long time ago. And we got separated… but you’re here now, and I’m gonna take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Bucky looked down at his new shake and took a drink of it. “This is good.”

Steve smiled, but there was pain in it. “I’m glad,” he said softly.

When Bucky’s clothes came, Steve picked out a set for him and they went to Steve’s apartment so that Bucky could have a shower – he was grimy all over and his hair was greasy, and they all had a feeling the poor guy hadn’t been allowed to bathe since probably 1945. When they were gone, Darcy busied herself taking all the tags off the rest of the clothing and folding it all up neatly to carry to – wherever he was going to be staying. Probably Steve’s apartment.

“Hey,” Bruce said, coming to her side. “You okay?”

“Getting there,” Darcy replied. “This wasn’t the turn I expected today to take, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Bruce agreed. “I don’t think anybody expected, you know, frozen assassin today.”

Darcy laughed. “Frozen assassin who’s Steve’s World War Two BFF?”

“Definitely did not have that on my bingo card,” Bruce said, grinning. He patted her shoulder. “It’ll be okay. I know you’re not as used to this level of weirdness as we all are, but it’ll be okay.”

“I don’t know,” Darcy replied. “I _was_ there when Thor’s brother decimated Puente Antiguo.”

“Oh, good point,” Bruce said. “I forgot. I was thinking you were the one among us who didn’t have weirdness expertise.”

Darcy smiled. “Even if I hadn’t been there for that, I’ve been babysitting you and Tony for a few weeks now. Believe me, I’ve seen weird.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Bruce replied, laughing. He patted her shoulder again. “All right. I’m heading back to my lab to look at the schematics from that machine and see if I can make anything of it.”

“If we need you, we’ll call,” Darcy promised. “Have fun.”

“That’s… not really the word I would have picked,” Bruce said and turned to go.

Tony looked up as Bruce headed for the elevator. “Going to look at schematics?” he asked. “Can I come?”

Bruce sighed. “You may as well; if I say no, you’re just going to show up later against my will anyway.”

“Bruce, it’s like you know me or something.”

“We’ve met,” Bruce said dryly. He stepped into the elevator and Tony scrambled to follow him.

Clint and Natasha, talking quietly on the other side of the room, looked up at Darcy. “Tell Steve we’re going to go back to Lehigh,” Natasha said.

“We want to see what else is being stored out there that we might not know about,” Clint added.

“It’ll be a couple of days, though,” Natasha continued. “I want to go to SHIELD first and find out what I can from that end. There’s a lot of archives in the basement here in New York and at the Triskelion and I’d be willing to bet good money that I’ll find something.”

Darcy nodded. “I’m sure there won’t be much to do around here besides babysitting Bucky.”

“Don’t discount that,” Clint said. “That’s going to be a big task. He doesn’t know which end is up right now. And if he _does_ start to get his memories back – get his _self_ back – he’s going to struggle a lot with what he’s done and been made to do.”

Darcy heard the ring of truth and experience in Clint’s words. She tilted her head a little. “Are _you_ okay?” she asked him. “This can’t be easy.”

“No, but I’m all right,” Clint replied, giving her a humorless smile. “I’m more concerned about the guy with no memories.”

Darcy nodded. “Well. If that changes…”

Clint nodded back. “Thanks,” he said simply. Then he touched Natasha’s shoulder. “Ready?”

Natasha nodded. “Let’s go.”

With them gone, Darcy collected Bucky’s new clothes and made her way to Steve’s apartment.

When she got there, they were just getting out of the shower; Darcy called out from the door and Steve called back, telling her to come on back to the bedroom. He was standing on a towel, dripping in his swim trunks. “He needed help in the shower,” Steve explained simply.

Darcy sighed. “Somehow I’m not surprised,” she said. “I brought the rest of his clothes; I wasn’t sure what else to do with them.”

“Oh, thanks,” Steve said. “I guess I’ll put him in the second bedroom.”

Darcy nodded, heading that direction. “I’ll give you privacy until you’re both dressed,” she said. “Does Bucky want another shake, do you think?”

“Hey, Buck?” Steve called toward the bathroom door. “Do you think you want another protein shake?”

There was a moment of silence before Darcy heard a muffled “Yes,” and she went into the kitchen to fix him one.

There was no vanilla powder here; instead, there was chocolate and peanut butter. Remembering what Bruce had said, Darcy pulled out the peanut butter and ingredients. She shook her head as she got into the refrigerator – Steve’s weird obsession with soy milk was something she did not understand – and then she put the shake together in the blender.

Bucky came out just as it was ready and she handed it to him. “This will taste different,” she warned him. “The ones you had downstairs were vanilla; this is peanut butter.”

“Is it…” he paused, thinking, and then said, “good? Like the vanilla?”

“It’s not like vanilla at all,” Darcy replied. “But I think it’s good.”

Bucky nodded, sniffed the drink carefully, and then took a careful sip. His face cleared and he looked up at her with something that could only be described as the very beginnings of a smile. “It’s good,” he said softly.

“I’m glad you like it,” she told him.

Steve came out a moment later and shifted into the kitchen to make a shake for himself. “Want one, Darce?”

“No, thanks,” Darcy replied. Then she relayed to him everything the others had said. “Bruce and Tony are digging more into that freezer machine. Clint and Natasha are going deep-dive researching in the SHIELD archives to see if they can find any information about Bucky. Then they’re going to go back to Lehigh and see what they can find there.”

Steve nodded. “What do they want us to do?”

“Hold down the fort,” Darcy replied, “and help Bucky get acclimated.”

Steve nodded, recognizing the wisdom in that choice. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “That’s probably the best thing.”

“It’s definitely the best thing,” Darcy replied. “We don’t want to leave him alone right now and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be alone. Being alone in a big new place like this is pretty scary, yeah?”

“True,” Steve admitted. “All right, then, what should we do?”

“I think we should watch cartoons,” Darcy said.

“Cartoons?” Steve asked skeptically.

“Cartoons?” Bucky echoed curiously.

“Cartoons,” Darcy repeated firmly. “JARVIS, can you queue up some of the oldies? Merrie Melodies, stuff like that? Ones that might have played in movie theaters?”

“Of course, Miss Lewis,” JARVIS replied. “I have an extensive collection of that sort of media.”

“Excellent,” Darcy said. She steered Bucky gently by the arm and sat him down on the right end of the sofa, then flopped down in the middle and patted the left side, looking at Steve expectantly.

“All right,” Steve said, coming to sit beside her. “Cartoons.”

They spent the afternoon watching cartoons. Some of them were familiar to Steve as ones he’d seen in movie theaters; others were more recent and he hadn’t seen those. Still, as odd as he thought Darcy’s choice was, he let go of all his worries about it when he heard Bucky let out a low, soft giggle at one of the jokes.

Darcy turned and grinned at Bucky, who was looking surprised at himself. “It’s pretty funny, the way that chicken’s neck stretched way out, isn’t it?”

“That would never happen in real life,” Bucky agreed, nodding.

“Nope,” Darcy agreed. “Oh, wait, watch this part!” She pointed at the screen, and this time Bucky, feeling safer, laughed out loud at what he saw.

Steve had to breathe slowly through his nose and fight very hard not to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

The next two days passed incredibly slowly. Bucky graduated from protein shakes to BRAT and plain chicken; he still didn’t get sick, and everyone involved considered that a win.

Then Natasha called from Washington. “I’ve found the chair,” she said simply. “Tony, I need you here. Bring a truck. It can be disassembled, but it’s still big.”

Tony, who possessed absolutely nothing that could be remotely construed as a truck, had JARVIS rent a huge pickup immediately. Then he came to Steve. “They’ve found the chair,” he said, and noticed but did not mention the way that Bucky flinched back at the revelation. “Are you coming?”

Steve looked from Darcy to Bucky and back to Tony. “I…”

“Go,” Darcy said. “Bucky and I will be okay here by ourselves.”

Steve looked over at Bucky for confirmation. He straightened his shoulders and nodded once.

Steve nodded back. “All right,” he said. “I’m going.” He dropped a kiss on Darcy’s lips and then turned and took Bucky’s hand. “I’ll be back soon,” he said. “And we’re going to figure out what they did to you and how to fix it. Okay?”

Bucky nodded, that wary look back on his face, and Steve squeezed his hand. “I’ll see you soon.”

Tony and Steve left, and Darcy turned to Bucky. “Would you like to watch more TV, or do you want to read a book or do something else?”

Bucky frowned. “Aren’t you scared to be alone with me?”

“Should I be?” Darcy asked, studying his face carefully.

“I could kill you,” he said. “I’m an assassin.”

“You are,” Darcy agreed. “Are you thinking about killing me?”

There was a long pause in which they studied one another, and then Bucky shook his head. “No.”

“Then I don’t have anything to be afraid of, do I?” Darcy asked.

“No,” Bucky said again, looking ashamed.

Darcy reached out and patted his arm. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “Everything’s new to you. I understand. Tell you what: why don’t we take a nap? I’ll sleep in Steve’s room, and after we’ve both had some rest, we’ll have something to eat and figure out what to do from there. How’s that sound?”

Bucky thought about it, then nodded. “Good,” he said.

Darcy smiled. “Excellent.”

Bucky went to his room and Darcy to Steve’s, where she changed into a pair of pajamas she’d stashed in his dresser. She heard Bucky down the hall getting settled in and she climbed into Steve’s bed herself, closing her eyes. She wondered about the chair. When Tony had mentioned it, Bucky had immediately looked frightened. She had a feeling that was where the tentative threat had come from – he was trying to feel more in control of the situation than he actually was.

Darcy had to remember that Bucky had only been awake for three days. Everything was still new and frightening to him; he didn’t know anyone and didn’t remember Steve, and nothing was going according to the protocols he was familiar with. There was nobody giving him orders; there were only people making suggestions or asking him what he wanted when she had a feeling nobody had asked him what he wanted in sixty-eight years. Things were very hard for him right now.

She dropped off to sleep with that thought in mind.

When she woke up, Bucky was already awake, sitting on the couch and watching Looney Tunes. He looked up when she entered the room, wary again. “Is it okay?” he asked softly.

  
She crossed the room and squeezed his right shoulder. “Totally okay,” she said. “You watch TV any time you want.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly grateful.

“Want something to eat?” she asked. “I’m thinking about making eggs.”

“Have I had eggs before?”

“Not in a long time,” Darcy replied. “Want to try them?”

“Yes,” Bucky said. The cartoon paused as he got up from the couch and came toward the kitchen, sitting on a stool at the counter to watch her cook. She fried up two platefuls of eggs and bacon and also made toast, then handed him a plate. “Here you go,” she said. “Down the hatch, and we’ll hope it stays.”

Bucky picked up a bacon strip. “What’s this?”

“Bacon,” Darcy replied. “Comes from a pig. It’s good. A little salty.”

He took a bite and nodded. “Salty,” he said. “Good.”

She smiled. “Excellent. Eat up.”

The eggs and bacon stayed down, and Darcy congratulated herself as she and Bucky sat back down on the couch. She grabbed her StarkPad and pulled up the book she’d been reading.

He leaned over and looked at what she was doing. “What’s that?”

“It’s a book,” she explained, showing it to him.

He glanced at Steve’s bookshelves and then back at the StarkPad. “You can get books like that?” he asked. “I don’t… I don’t remember that.”

And wasn’t _that_ interesting – he said it like he remembered another kind of book. She didn’t touch it; best not to call attention to it, if he was remembering on his own. “It’s a newer concept,” she replied. “E-books only came out, like… Maybe ten years ago?”

“I remember… there was a place with lots of books, and I used to go there and read them?”

“The library?” Darcy suggested.

“Library.” He said the word like he was tasting it on his tongue. “Library. Yes. The library. Sometimes I went with a boy.”

Darcy nodded, smiling a little. “Yes,” she said simply.

He shook his head. “That’s all.” He looked at her book again. “What are you reading about?”

“It’s a horror novel about a woman whose grandmother messed around with an evil spirit and now the spirit is trying to get revenge on the woman’s family.”

He blinked. “That sounds scary.”

She nodded. “That’s the point,” she said. “It’s meant to be scary.”

“Why?”

Darcy thought about it. “Being scared in real life isn’t fun,” she said. “But sometimes it can be fun to be scared when you know it isn’t real. So people watch horror movies and read horror books because they know they can be scared, but when you close the book or turn off the movie, there’s no reason to be scared.”

“Hm,” Bucky said, considering this. “I think I like the cartoons.”

Darcy smiled. “That’s valid,” she told him. “You’re allowed to like funny things better than scary things.” She waved the pad a little bit. “That’s one reason I only read this in the daytime. If I read it at night, I’d be _too_ scared and I might not be able to sleep.”

“That would not be good,” Bucky observed.

“You got that right.”

Bucky asked JARVIS to unpause the cartoons, and he went back to watching them while Darcy read her book.

When her cell phone rang, Darcy jumped. Bucky flinched back, staring at her with wide eyes, and she laughed. “Scared me!” she exclaimed, and pulled her phone out. “Hey, Steve.”

“Hey,” he said. “How’s everything?”

“Copacetic,” she replied. “Bucky’s watching Looney Tunes and I’m reading that book. Phone rang and scared the hell out of me.”

“You and that book,” Steve said, his voice warm.

“I can’t help it; it’s so good.” Darcy grinned. “So what’s the situation down there?”

“It’s definitely the chair he described,” Steve said. “Big, black, ugly. Has an armature that goes around the head, and it doesn’t look like it does anything good. We’re going to take it apart in the morning and bring it back to New York.”

“You’re not putting it back together, are you?” she asked, worried, as Bucky’s face got that wary look again. He could clearly hear Steve’s side of the conversation, so Darcy shrugged and put the phone on speaker. “You’re on speaker,” she told him. “Bucky can hear you.”

“We’re _not_ putting it back together,” Steve said firmly. “We want to see how it works and figure out if we can reverse its effects.”

“Electricity,” Bucky blurted. “Head and face.”

There was a long silence before Steve said, “I see.” And it was probable, given that he had seen the chair, that he actually did see. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “Bucky… you have my word that nobody is ever going to put you in that chair again.”

Bucky nodded, then seemed to remember that he couldn’t be seen. “Okay.”

“Have you eaten?” Steve asked.

“Darcy made eggs and bacon,” Bucky replied. “And toast. I dipped the toast in the egg yolks. It was good.”

“Good!” Steve exclaimed. “Darcy makes excellent breakfast.”

“Yes, I do,” Darcy replied, grinning and preening a little. “I’ll have to make quiche tomorrow maybe, since now we know Bucky can tolerate eggs.”

“I’m jealous I’m going to miss it,” Steve replied. “Will you make quiche for me one day?”

“Of course,” Darcy laughed. “All you have to do is ask.”

They talked a little more about inconsequential things, and then Steve had to go, so they hung up. Darcy patted Bucky’s arm. “Don’t look so worried,” she said softly. “Everything will be okay. And Steve doesn’t break his word – you’ll never sit in that chair again.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes on the paused screen. “Okay,” he said softly, as though he was willing himself to believe it. “Okay.”

~*~

Steve and Tony returned the next day with the pieces of the chair in the back of the rented truck and Natasha and Clint behind them in Tony’s Audi. The four of them, working together, laid the parts of the chair out on the floor of Tony’s lab like an exploded diagram, and Darcy and Bucky watched as JARVIS scanned all the parts and put together a 3-D model of the chair. Once it was all put together, Natasha turned to Bucky. “Have you been to the bank building?” she asked.

Bucky thought about this, frowning. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I don’t remember it.”

Natasha nodded. “We found you in New Jersey,” she said. “We found the chair in Washington, DC. Do you remember being in either of those places?”

He shook his head. “No, but…” He paused, then said, “They didn’t usually tell me where I was.”

“Did they tell you anything at all?” Clint asked.

Bucky shrugged. “Number of targets, level of targets. Make it look messy, make it look like an accident. That kind of thing.”

Clint nodded. “Sounds right,” he said, a little sourly. “The gun doesn’t need to know who it’s being pointed at or why, does it? All it knows is boom.”

“All right,” Tony interrupted. “Everyone out. I have a lot of work to do putting together schematics on this thing.”

“Have you had dinner?” Darcy asked him.

He had to think about it.

“Yes,” Steve said, saving Tony. “We ate before we left DC.”

“That’s been five hours,” Darcy said. “Tony, come eat before you get started.”

“But – ”

“No buts,” Darcy interrupted. “Food first, then science.”

Tony sighed. “Fine, but I want butter chicken.”

“We can order in, that’s fine,” Darcy said. “Come on up to the common room.”

Once up in the common room, Darcy called to order food, and Bucky turned to Steve. “Who was the boy I went to the library with?”

Steve swallowed hard, his eyes going wide. “That… that was me, Buck,” he said.

“No, he was small,” Bucky replied. 

Steve nodded. “I  _was_ small back then. I – JARVIS, do you have any pictures of me from before the serum? Darcy mentioned a textbook.”

“There are three known photographs of you from before you received the serum,” JARVIS replied, and he projected the three of them on the big screen TV.

Bucky walked up to the screen and reached out, gently touching the face of the Steve in one of the pictures. “Yes,” he said. “This boy.”

Steve swallowed hard. “Yes,” he echoed. “That was me.”

“What’s the serum?”

Steve guided Bucky to sit down on one of the couches. “I tried hard to join the Army after you got drafted,” he explained. “They wouldn’t take me. Too skinny, too sickly. But this doctor, Erskine, he saw me and he decided to take a chance on me. He recruited me into a top secret program called Project Rebirth. Basically they shot me up with some kind of drugs – that’s the serum – and then with something called Vita Rays, which Tony might know more about, since they were his dad’s invention. And after they got done with the procedure, I wasn’t small and sickly any more; I was like this.” He waved a hand at himself.

“That…” Bucky considered for a minute. “That sounds like a damn fool thing to do,” he finally said.

Steve burst out laughing. “That’s exactly what you said to me when I told you this story the first time,” he said. “And then you socked me in the jaw for being stupid.”

Bucky studied him, and suddenly got a sly look on his face. “I could do that again, if you want.”

The others, watching the conversation, laughed as well. “I’d rather you didn’t, all things considered,” Steve told him, grinning.

“Well, if you change your mind.” Bucky smiled, tentatively, and Steve smiled back. 

“It’s good to see you having a sense of humor, Buck,” Steve said. 

“Darcy said it was okay to make a joke if I wanted to,” Bucky said. “She told me one, would you like to hear it?”

“Absolutely,” Steve said, with a glance at Darcy. He knew her terrible sense of humor, so he braced himself for something awful. 

He was right. “Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself?”

There was a long moment of silence in the room while everyone tried to think up the answer and Darcy, standing in the kitchen doorway, grinned like a loon. Finally, Steve said, “I don’t know, Buck. Why?”

“It was two tired!” Bucky burst out, and there was laughter and groans all around the room. 

“Darcy, I’m blaming you if he starts making horrible jokes all the time,” Tony said, pointing a finger at her.

Darcy laughed. “I’ll gladly take that blame,” she said. “Hey Bucky, how many apples grow on a tree?”

He thought about this, his face scrunching up. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “A hundred?”

“All of them!” Darcy cackled as the team groaned and Bucky laughed. 

Steve looked from Darcy to Bucky with wet eyes. “I never thought I’d hear you laugh again, Buck,” he said softly. “I’m so glad you’re back with me. Even if you  _do_ laugh at Darcy’s terrible jokes.”

Bucky smiled tentatively at him. “She’s funny,” he said. “She says it’s okay to laugh when things are funny. But Steve… she reads scary books.”

“I know!” Steve replied, grinning. “I don’t understand her.”

The food arrived shortly thereafter. They wondered if Bucky’s stomach would be able to handle Indian food, but a small serving of rice and butter chicken didn’t disturb him, so he ate with the others instead of having to eat something plain. “This is good,” Bucky said, shoveling chicken into his mouth.

“It’s delicious,” Natasha agreed. “Not as good as Russian food, but still very good.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten Russian food,” Bucky said, considering.

Natasha did not contradict him, Darcy noticed, even though they all knew that if he’d been part of the Red Room, he would certainly have eaten Russian food there. She wasn’t pushing him to remember; he would remember or not on his own.

That night, Darcy rolled into bed beside Steve and curled up next to him. “He’s remembering,” she said softly.

“I think so,” Steve replied. “Tony said he thinks he might remember on his own without any kind of intervention.”

“He does?”

Steve nodded. “Do you know about electroshock therapy?”

“Some,” Darcy said. “I know it’s used as a mental health treatment and – oh,” she paused. “It causes short term memory loss.”

“Exactly. He says he thinks this might have worked the same way. He isn’t sure, and he wants to talk to Bruce and maybe look at a scan of Bucky’s brain, but he thinks it might heal itself.”

“That’s good,” Darcy said. “That’s really good.” She wrapped her arms around Steve and squeezed. “Just… have you noticed how Natasha doesn’t tell him what she remembers?”

Steve nodded. “I think she’s waiting to see if he remembers on his own.”

“I kind of want to ask her what happened in the Red Room,” Darcy said. “But I also don’t think I want to know.”

Steve shook his head. “No, you probably don’t,” he said. “It’s like your horror books; you don’t want that in real life.”

She settled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her. “Get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow’s more of the same.”

~*~

A new routine settled over the Avengers; Tony and Bruce set aside all their other work in favor of examining and dissecting the chair; Clint was called to DC to return to work for SHIELD; Natasha went on an undercover mission; and Steve, not needed by SHIELD, knocked around the tower with Bucky, the two of them working together to discover the future.

Darcy occasionally gave them suggestions about books to read, music to listen to, or movies or television shows to watch, but she was mostly out of the loop on what they were doing since she was back to work as Tony and Bruce’s PA. She found herself jealous of Steve, who got to spend all day with Bucky – and of Bucky, who got to spend all day with Steve. She shook herself when she realized what she was feeling; how silly was it to be jealous of them? They had been best friends, and it was only fair that they should work on rebuilding their friendship. But she  _was_ jealous – and not just because she wasn’t getting to be the one introducing them to new things and watching them decide whether or not they were enjoyable.

She wanted to be with them – full stop. She didn’t want to be working, running back and forth from Tony’s office to his lab, Bruce’s lab, Jane’s lab – she wanted to be hanging out with Steve and Bucky.

She laughed at herself. “I feel like I’m missing out,” she told Jane one afternoon. “I want to be there when they watch  _The West Wing_ for the first time and when Bucky learns how to play Monopoly or they both learn to appreciate  _Wicked,_ you know? It’s not fair.”

“Yes, it’s totally unfair that you have a job and you have to work while other people get to play,” Jane said dryly. “Can you check on that machine for me?”

“I find your lack of sympathy to be appalling,” Darcy said. “I’m pining for my boyfriend here.”

Jane raised her head and glared at Darcy eloquently. Darcy held up her hands. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You should be,” Jane replied, going back to her work. “At least you get to _see_ your boyfriend once in awhile.”

“Sorry,” Darcy said again, cringing a little. “I spoke without thinking.”

Jane sighed, sitting back in her chair. “It’s hard,” she said. “You want to be there  _with_ them and also  _for_ them, but you have competing loyalties. Maybe you could take a couple of days off.”

“I already did,” Darcy pointed out. “We were off for like a week when Bucky first got here. Paperwork piled up and it’s hard to get Tony to focus on office stuff on the best of days. When he’s got as interesting a puzzle as that chair? Nearly impossible.”

Jane grimaced. “I can only imagine.”

“I will grant you this,” Darcy said. “As hard as it is to get you to focus on non-astronomy things, it’s twice as hard to get him to do it. Sometimes I miss the days when I only had to deal with _you_.”

“I’m not sure how to take that,” Jane said, laughing. 

“Pretend it was a compliment,” Darcy suggested, grinning.

“Ha, ha.” Jane stuck out her tongue at Darcy. “Hey, let’s get out of the tower for awhile. Want to go get some food?”

“I always want to go get some food,” Darcy agreed. “Steve’s pizza place?”

“Oh, pizza,” Jane said. “I could absolutely murder a pizza right now.”

Darcy stood up. “Let’s do it, then,” she said. “Pepperoni and mushrooms.”

“And extra cheese,” Jane added, standing as well. She looked around the room, finding her interns hard at work. “I’ll be back in an hour or so,” she told them. “Page me if anything interesting happens.”

“Will do,” said one of them, waving, and Jane turned and left the room with Darcy.

By tradition, they did not talk about work on lunch breaks. Jane needed time to clear her head, and Darcy needed time to not be an astrophysicist’s intern or anybody’s PA. Instead they talked about movies; something was coming out that Jane wanted to see, and Darcy pulled up the trailer on her phone to take a look at it. “That looks good,” she agreed when it was over. “I’ll go see that with you.”

“Excellent,” Jane said, grinning. “It doesn’t come out for like a month, but we’ll go when it opens.”

Darcy nodded, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Having pizza with you is excellent,” she said. “Steve doesn’t like mushrooms.”

Jane goggled at Darcy. “How?”

Darcy shook her head. “No idea. He says they taste like feet. I asked him how he knew what feet tasted like, and he started talking about C-rations.”

Jane chortled. “He’s so funny.”

“He really is,” Darcy agreed. “And he’s an absolute little shit. He tries to present this wholesome aw-shucks personality, but he’s also trolling Tony right now _so hard_.”

Jane quirked an eyebrow. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s pretending he doesn’t understand how to use his StarkPhone. Tony’s literally dumbed it down so hard a toddler could operate it, but Steve keeps pretending he can’t figure it out.”

“How is he functioning without a usable phone?”

Darcy shook her head. “He went most of his life without any phone at all,” she pointed out. “Phones in houses didn’t start happening until… I don’t know. But they didn’t have them in the buildings he lived in.” She paused, then added with a grin, “Plus, he got a Samsung Galaxy with pay-as-you-go.”

“So he’s pretending he doesn’t know how they work?”

“Exactly. Tony isn’t paying any attention to the fact that Steve uses JARVIS just fine, and he has a laptop that he uses any time he needs to access the internet on his own. If Tony was to _ask_ JARVIS, Steve would be busted, but Tony’s convinced.”

“So what does Steve’s phone actually do?”

“It makes calls,” Darcy replied. “That’s literally the only functionality it has right now. I can’t even text him on it; I have to use his Samsung.”

“It’ll serve Steve right if Tony leaves it that way once the jig is up,” Jane said, laughing.

Darcy shook her head. “I told him that, too,” she said. “He just laughed. I think he already knows how to reset the settings.”

Jane shook her head. “You’re right; he _is_ a troll.”

“I told you.” Darcy laughed.

They finished off their pizza and Jane got another one for the interns, then they headed back to the tower, neither of them noticing the dark-haired figure that trailed them the whole way.

~*~

That night, the nightmares began.

Bucky woke up screaming in the middle of the night, and Steve and Darcy bolted into his room to find out what had happened. He clung to Steve. “They took my arm,” he nearly sobbed. “Steve, Steve, they took my arm.”

“I know,” Steve murmured, rubbing Bucky’s back. “I know they did, pal, and I’m so sorry.”

“It was Zola,” Bucky managed to say after a minute. “Steve, how do I know it was Zola? Who’s Zola?”

“Zola was a Hydra scientist,” Steve said. 

Darcy left Steve to explain it and went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. She brought the chocolate back once it was ready to find that Bucky was sitting up now, hiccuping and wiping at his wet eyes. “Here,” she said softly, handing him a mug. “Drink this. It’ll help.” She handed a second mug to Steve and kept the third for herself.

Bucky took a sip of his chocolate and then a longer drink. “It’s good,” he said to her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Darcy said softly. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head, looking up at her. “They took my arm,” he said again, very softly.

“I know,” Darcy replied, pulling out the desk chair and taking a seat. “They gave you that metal one, but it’s not the same, is it?”

“No,” Bucky agreed. “It’s not.” He looked down at his mismatched hands, then back up at her. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”

“That they took your arm? Yes.”

“No, I mean…” He held out his metal hand. “It’s awful.”

“It’s part of you,” Darcy said softly. “That makes it not awful by definition.”

“It is, though,” Bucky said. “I think… I think I used it to do bad things.” He looked between Steve and Darcy. “Am I bad?”

“No,” they chorused, both of them speaking firmly. “Absolutely not,” Steve continued. “They _made_ you do those things. You didn’t have a choice.”

Bucky nodded, looking back down at his hands again. Darcy leaned over and covered his left hand with hers. “It’s going to be okay,” she said softly. “I promise.”

He looked up at her and the corner of his mouth quirked. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, doll.”

Steve jerked a little at the sound of Brooklyn in those words. Then he laughed. “We’ll do our best to keep this one,” he said. Then he squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. “Think you can sleep some more?”

“Maybe,” Bucky replied. “I can try.”

Darcy nodded. “Sometimes trying is all you can do,” she said. “But if you don’t try, you’ll never succeed.”

Bucky nodded, then shifted on the bed. Steve stood up and Bucky laid himself down. Darcy collected the hot chocolate mugs, and the two of them exited the room, Steve cutting the light off behind him as they went.

In the kitchen, Darcy ran water into the mugs and left them in the sink, then turned to Steve and wrapped her arms around him. “Okay?” she murmured.

“No,” he replied, utterly honest. “I want to kill them all.”

Darcy nodded. “We’ll figure it out,” she said. “And then you can… well. Maybe not kill them. But definitely get revenge.”

He looked down at her. “Darce,” he said softly, “You know my hands ain’t clean.”

“I know,” she replied, a little sharply. “You were in a war. People kill and are killed in war. I know. But that doesn’t mean you get to kill now in cold blood.”

He nodded. “You’re right,” he said after a moment of thought and deep breathing. “Killing’s too good for them, anyway.”

Darcy smiled, tiptoeing to kiss him. “Now you’re thinking,” she said. “Revenge is a dish best served without murder.” She tugged on his hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go back to bed.”

~*~

The nightmares continued, and it seemed that with every one, Bucky remembered more and more – but often, the things he remembered were terrible. Bruce was working with some of the doctors in the medical suite to examine Bucky’s brain scans, and he was inclined to agree with Tony’s assessment.

“It’s just short term memory loss,” Bruce said, going over Bucky’s brain scans with Steve in private one afternoon. “I mean, obviously it’s exacerbated by the sheer magnitude of the electric currents that were used, but Tony’s right – it’s essentially short term memory loss caused by electroshock. If I had to guess, his brain is healing itself, and he’ll regain most, if not all, of his memories on his own.”

“That’s good news,” Steve said.

Bruce nodded. “Steve… you don’t happen to know if he’s been enhanced, do you?”

“You mean aside from the arm?” Steve asked. “I don’t know. But if I had to guess… well. Zola had him in a lab when I found him at Azzano, and he’d been experimented on, shot up with God knows what. So I’d say it’s entirely possible.”

Bruce nodded. “I wondered, because he’s healing at a much faster rate than I would expect from an unenhanced human – something more like what I’d expect from you or me.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “I’d ask him, but I doubt he’d know right now.”

“Probably not,” Bruce agreed. “And just asking might upset him.”

“Yeah. And I don’t want to upset him any more than is necessary; he’s upset enough already with all the nightmares and everything.”

“It’s going to take time,” Bruce said. “The nightmares… well. Has anyone talked to you about PTSD?”

Steve shook his head. “What’s that?”

“It’s short for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Bruce said. “You might know it as shell shock or battle fatigue. When people go through long periods of traumatic stress, they often come out on the other side with PTSD. It’s not just for soldiers; people who’ve been in long term abusive situations, for example, will also often have PTSD.”

“You think Bucky has it?”

“If he doesn’t, it’d be the greatest miracle I ever saw,” Bruce replied. He tilted his head, studying Steve as though he had something else he wanted to say, but he didn’t say it. Instead he said, “Once he starts getting his memories back, we’re going to want to think about getting him some mental health help. Someone he can talk to about the things he’s experienced – someone who isn’t you, Steve,” he added when Steve opened his mouth to speak. “You’re too close to the situation and you don’t have the background in mental health. Neither do I; none of my Ph.D.s are in any of the mental health or psych fields.”

“So what do you recommend?” Steve asked.

“We need to find him someone – a professional, someone who specializes in trauma.”

Steve considered this. “SHIELD wants me to talk to someone,” he admitted. “I think they think maybe I have this PTSD thing, too.”

“You might,” Bruce said mildly. “It’s common in people who’ve been in war zones, and with some of the things you’ve seen and experienced…”

Steve waved away the suggestion. “I’m fine,” he said, despite all evidence to the contrary. “I was thinking more along the lines of having someone at SHIELD talk to Bucky.”

“That… sounds like a good idea, on the face of it,” Bruce agreed. “But with not knowing whether or not SHIELD was involved in him being in that basement…” He trailed off again.

Steve grimaced. “Good point.” He sighed. “Maybe Tony knows someone. He seems to have people for everything.”

“Tony would be a good place to start,” Bruce said. “Pepper might be better, though; Tony doesn’t strike me as the therapy type, but I bet Pepper knows someone highly qualified.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll ask her.” He looked at the pictures of Bucky’s brain again, grimaced, and then said, “Bruce… thanks. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” said Bruce, and he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Darcy is reading is _The Good House_ by Tananarive Due, which I recently got as an audiobook. The plot is as described. I highly recommend it.


	4. Chapter 4

He couldn’t get in. He’d tried every way he could think of short of marching up to the information desk and asking for a pass to the Avengers’ private floors, and he couldn’t get in. He knew damn good and well they had the Asset, but he couldn’t get in to verify or to attempt to recover it.

If he could get within shouting range of it, he knew the trigger phrases to make it obey, but the problem was that _if_. Because he couldn’t.

Shit was going to hit the fan when Pierce found out the Avengers had the Asset. They were a new player on the field, this team of super-freaks, but they sure as hell weren’t going to hail Hydra, not with Captain America leading them.

Rumlow sat in his grungy motel room in Paramus and seethed.

At least they hadn’t found Zola. The room had been undisturbed when Rumlow went down there; the only footprints in the dust had been his own from the last time he was there. Thank God for small miracles. Still, that didn’t mean they _wouldn’t_ find it – all they had to do was get curious about what else might be stored out there at Lehigh and seventy years of careful work would be unraveled.

Rumlow put his head in his hands. Pierce was going to have him killed, literally, when he found out about this. And he was going to find out; it had been three weeks, and Rumlow hadn’t even managed to infiltrate fucking Stark Tower to see if the Asset was even there.

Of course the Asset was there. Where else would it be?

Rumlow sighed, stood up, and collected his things. Time to head back to DC and face the music.

~*~

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you,” Pierce said when Rumlow stated the problem in the quiet dark of Pierce’s kitchen. “I could have sworn you said the Asset had been removed from storage, but that can’t be right. You would never allow such a thing to happen on your watch, Brock, would you?”

Brock swallowed. This was even worse than he’d expected. “They came in between my patrols, Mr. Secretary,” he explained. “I went out there one day and everything was fine and normal; I went out there the next time and it was gone.”

“Gone, you say,” Pierce said. “And you just… happened to go out there that day and find it missing.”

_Fuck,_ Rumlow thought. Pierce already knew. That fucking egghead must have reported to him that the tracker had gone off. Rumlow was going to break that little egghead’s neck if he ever saw him again.

“Well, no,” he admitted. “I was informed by one of the techs monitoring the Asset that its tracker had gone off, which only happens if it’s thawed out.”

“So, not only did the asset go missing on your watch,” Pierce said, “but it has also been awakened – and possibly is in the custody of the Avengers?”

Rumlow resisted the urge to swallow nervously again. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“You’re relieved of command, Brock,” Pierce said softly. “I’m going to put Rollins in charge of Asset retrieval.”

Rumlow nodded, not speaking. He wanted to protest, to swear that he’d fix his error and retrieve the Asset on his own, but at this rate he was going to be lucky to get away with his life, much less his command.

But he got a reprieve. “You’re going to be on the retrieval team,” Pierce said. “If you follow orders and Rollins has no complaints about you, then I’ll reconsider your disposition after all this is over.”

_Disposition._ That sounded grim. Rumlow nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said simply.

“You’ve already disappointed me badly, Brock,” Pierce said. “Don’t do it again.”

“No, sir.”

“Get out of my sight, Brock.”

Rumlow went.

~*~

With every day that passed, Bucky got a little better. He still had nightmares almost every night, but he was remembering things – sometimes even good things, like how he’d worked at Parker’s Grocery or how he and Steve used to put a board over the top of the tub in the kitchen and use that for a table. “We had the place to ourselves, which was pretty hoity-toity for a couple guys like us,” Bucky told Darcy over coffee one afternoon. “But Steve made good money on his advertisements and I did decent at the grocery store, plus bringing home free food sometimes.”

Darcy nodded. “That certainly helps the budget,” she agreed.

For all the good, though, there was also bad; the worst thing that happened was when Bucky got a memory back and came to Steve with hollow eyes. “Steve,” he said, “it’s about Tony.”

In the end, there was no question of not telling Tony; the consequences of betrayal if Tony found out any other way were too high and heavy to consider. Steve offered to talk to Tony himself, but Bucky refused. “No,” he said. “I did it. I’m the one who needs to come clean about it.”

“Bucky, _you_ didn’t – ”

“You think that’s gonna make a difference to him?” Bucky demanded. “You think after I tell him this, he’s gonna look at me as anything other than the guy who offed his parents?”

Steve sat down heavily on the sofa and sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I want to think the best of him; I want to think that he’ll understand that it wasn’t you. But… I don’t know him well enough to know how he’ll actually react. He might get violent.”

“He can’t hurt me,” Bucky said confidently.

“You don’t know what kind of weapons he has in his lab,” Steve said, his tone dark.

“Well,” Bucky said, looking a little more concerned now, “either way, I’ve got to tell him. The sooner the better.”

Steve nodded. “Do you want me to come with you, at least?”

“No, pal,” Bucky said. “This is something I gotta do alone.”

So Bucky made his way down to Tony’s lab.

“Freezer pop!” Tony greeted him when he entered. “Good to see you. I was just looking at your brain scans with Bruce; you’re looking better.”

Bucky nodded. “Good to hear,” he said. He took a deep breath, looking everywhere except at Tony, and then said, “Can you… take a pause? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Tony did pause, and looked over at Bucky. “You look serious,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Come sit down,” Bucky said, leading Tony over to the broken-down couch that sat on the far end of the room, where Tony sometimes took naps. Once Tony was sitting, looking nervous and concerned, Bucky stood for a moment and then grabbed a stool and sat down. Then he stood up again, pacing back and forth for a second.

“Bucky, buddy, pal, friend,” Tony said. “You’re making me nervous as hell.”

“Sorry. It’s just… I don’t know how to say this.” Bucky took a deep breath, pushing a hand through his hair, and then turned to face Tony. “It’s like this. You know how I’ve been getting memories back?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “That’s mostly good news, yeah?”

“Yeah, mostly,” Bucky agreed. “But Tony… I… here’s the thing. I had a nightmare last night. And it was about a mission. And I…” He swallowed. “I think I’m the one who killed your dad.”

“No,” Tony said firmly. “My parents died in a car accident.”

Bucky nodded. “They were on their way to a SHIELD base upstate,” he said softly. “Your dad figured out the serum, and… well. I don’t know what they were doing with it, but I know the Russians wanted it.”

“The Russians?”

Bucky nodded. “That’s who had me – I know, because I was speaking Russian with them in the dream.”

Tony’s face had gone utterly blank. “What did they do with it?”

“They wanted to make more super soldiers,” Bucky said.

Tony was silent for a moment. “Did they?”

Bucky smiled without humor. “Me.”

“Any others?”

Bucky shook his head. “They did, but they turned out unstable and erratic. They had to be eliminated.”

“Unstable and erratic,” Tony said tonelessly. “Like the Red Skull.”

Bucky tilted his head. “I don’t remember him.”

“Did you kill my mother?”

“She died in the accident,” Bucky replied. “But your dad… your dad recognized me.”

“He knew you.”

Bucky nodded. “He called me Sergeant Barnes.”

“And you remember this now.”

Bucky nodded again. “Had a nightmare about it last night.”

“And you just thought, well, I’ll swing down to Tony’s lab and ruin his day?”

Bucky, who had been looking down at his feet, now looked up to face Tony. “Would you rather I didn’t tell you and let you find out from some mission report that we find in some archive somewhere?”

Tony was silent for a minute, then nodded. “Fair enough.” He studied Bucky’s face for a long minute before saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but get out.”

Bucky got.

He headed back to Steve’s apartment, where Steve was waiting nervously. “How did it go?” Steve asked.

“Better than I expected, actually,” Bucky replied. “He didn’t want too many details and he didn’t try to kill me.”

“Well, I suppose that’s all we can ask for.”

Bucky nodded. He flopped down onto the sofa. “Hey, JARVIS, can you please queue up some more of those Looney Tunes?”

“Of course, Sergeant Barnes.” JARVIS paused. “May I offer an observation?”

Surprised, Bucky looked up toward the ceiling. “Sure, JARVIS.”

“While Mr. Stark is quite agitated at the moment, sir, I believe – if this is not overstepping – that you did the right thing.”

Bucky was silent for a moment before choking out, “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“You’re quite welcome,” JARVIS said softly, and then the Looney Tunes theme music began to play.

~*~

It was five days before Tony came out of his lab again except to go to the penthouse and sleep, and he only did that when Darcy or Pepper forced him out. “I know it’s a tough time right now,” Darcy told him. “Like, unbelievably. I can’t possibly even imagine what you’re going through. But you’ve got to take care of yourself or you’re going to collapse, and you’ve got a heart problem. You can’t afford to work yourself to collapse.”

Tony looked at Darcy, his eyes looking old with dark circles under them. “Every time I try to sleep, I see them.”

Darcy took a deep breath through her nose to stave off tears. “Can I hug you?” she asked, and then simply did so without waiting for an answer.

“Whoa, whoa!” Tony exclaimed, holding his arms up. “You’ve got a boyfriend, remember? Tall, blonde, and star-spangled?”

“Oh, shut up, Tony,” Darcy said. “I’m trying to be comforting.”

“You’re scaring me, Lewis,” Tony said, but he dropped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her back. When he finally let go, she stepped back, and he gave her a tentative smile. “Thanks,” he said simply.

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

Then his eyes narrowed and he pointed a finger at her. “You tell no one.”

“Don’t worry,” she laughed. “I won’t sully your reputation.”

Steve tried to come talk to Tony, but Tony wasn’t having _that_. “No,” he said the moment the door opened on Steve’s entry. “Go away.”

Steve went.

The day Tony finally came out of his lab, he appeared in the common room looking hollowed out and exhausted, but he made eye contact with Bucky across the room. “I’m not over it,” he said simply, “but I know they made you do it.”

Bucky nodded. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” Tony replied, sounding as tired as he looked. “That makes it worse.” He left the common room again.

There was quiet after Tony left, and then Natasha looked over at Bucky. “Want to tell us what that was about?”

“No,” Bucky said, and turned, leaving the room through a different door.

Natasha turned her gaze onto Steve, who shrugged. “He’ll talk about it when he’s ready,” he said. “It’s not mine to tell.”

“I hate being out of the loop,” Clint complained.

“In this case, be grateful,” Darcy told him, patting his head. “It’s been kind of a mess.”

It was another week before Tony could be in the same room with Bucky, but they both made an effort. Finally, one day, Tony summoned Bucky to his lab.

Bucky went, full of trepidation, only to find Tony working on a new suit of armor. “I want you to try this on,” Tony said. “It’s armored Kevlar.”

“What’s it for?” Bucky asked, taking the suit in his hands.

“It’s your uniform,” Tony said. “If you’re going to be an Avenger, you need a suit.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said I was going to be an Avenger?”

“I did,” Tony replied, looking up at Bucky with a steady gaze. “And you owe me. You owe everybody. So what you’re gonna do is you’re gonna put on that suit, and you’re gonna suit up with the rest of us when the time comes, and you’re gonna avenge all those people you killed for whoever had you.”

Bucky considered Tony for a long moment, then gestured with the suit. “I’ll go try this on.”

“So you expect a lot of action?” Bucky asked when he came out of the bathroom in the suit. It was comfortable, close fitting, with places to stash guns and knives, and there was no left sleeve to get caught in the plates of his arm.

“I do,” Tony replied. “There’s plenty to go around; the X-Men and the Fantastic Four can’t have all the fun, or all the villains.”

“The who?” Bucky asked. Then he tugged at the fabric over his thighs. “It’s a little tight in the crotch.”

Tony turned to a hologram and made some adjustments, leaving the obvious joke aside. “The X-Men are a group of mutants out of Westchester. They’ve got a school up there for mutant kids and they do whatever they do. The Four are Reed Richards, his wife Sue, her brother Johnny, and Ben Grimm. They had some kind of cosmic ray experience and now they all have superpowers.”

“Superpowers.” Bucky sounded skeptical.

“You have the serum and a metal arm,” Tony pointed out.

“Right,” Bucky said. “Superpowers. So what can they do?”

“Johnny sets things on fire,” Tony replied, checking the armor plates. “Sue turns invisible. Ben is made out of stone. Reed stretches.”

“Stretches?”

“It’s actually kind of gross,” Tony said. “He can stretch his whole body out.”

Bucky tried to visualize this and came up with nothing good. “Yuck,” he finally said.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed.

Darcy entered the room with an armload of paperwork, looking down at what was in her hands. “Hey, Tony, I’ve got some patent papers you need to sign for the – ” She looked up and saw Bucky standing there in what was undeniably a tactical suit. “Okay,” she drawled. “And what have I missed?”

“Bucky’s joining the team,” Tony replied.

Darcy bit her lip. “Are you – ”

“Yes,” Tony and Bucky said in unison.

“– sure that’s a good idea?” Darcy finished.

“Nope,” Bucky replied, obnoxiously popping the P. “But we’ll see what happens when the time comes.”

Darcy set her papers aside on a table and slowly walked around Bucky, studying him carefully. “This is armored, right?” she asked Tony.

“Of course it is,” Tony replied. “What do you take me for?”

“Mad genius,” Darcy replied immediately. “I’m just asking reasonable questions.” When she got back to Bucky’s front, she sighed. “Nobody’s going to talk you out of this, are they?”

“No,” Bucky replied. “Darce, I gotta do good things to balance out the bad.”

“Natasha says she has red in her ledger,” Darcy said softly.

Bucky nodded. “I do, too,” he said simply.

Darcy turned to Tony. “Will you make one of these for Steve? That outfit SHIELD gave him is a walking target.”

“Already have one,” Tony replied. “I even took the stripes out.”

“Thank God,” Darcy replied. “Should I send him down to get fitted?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “That’s a good idea. Let’s do that. JARVIS!”

JARVIS summoned Steve, who came rushing in within just a few minutes, clearly afraid there had been a fight. Instead, there was Darcy, examining Bucky in his tac suit. “What’s that?”

“Tac suit,” Bucky said. “Gonna need it when I go out with the team.”

“Are you?” Steve asked. “Going out with the team, I mean.”

“Yes,” Bucky said firmly.

“You haven’t even left the tower since you’ve been here,” Steve pointed out.

“Well, then maybe I need to do that,” Bucky replied. “I haven’t really thought of it since everything I need is here, but I guess we could always go out for tandoori.”

Darcy smothered a smile; Bucky _loved_ Indian food and would probably walk to Hoboken for it if given no other option. “All right,” she said. “Why don’t we all go to the Clay Pit tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Tony said. Then he went to a locker and pulled out a dark blue tac suit. “Cap, try this on,” he said, throwing it to Steve. “See if it pinches your balls the way Bucky’s does.”

“Tony, there’s a lady present!” Bucky said, scandalized.

Darcy looked around. “There is? Where?”

Tony shooed Steve toward the bathroom, and Darcy pushed the papers toward Tony, setting a pen on top of them. “Tony. Papers. Sign.”

“I don’t like – ”

“Being handed things, I know,” Darcy replied. “Which is why I’m not handing you this; I’m putting it on the table. Now get over here and sign this stuff so you can make some more millions; you’re going to need it to keep my guys safe.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the possessive but said nothing.

Darcy left the room with the papers signed and Steve standing in front of Tony in a dark navy blue suit with a silver star on the chest. She took one long look before leaving the room, giving him a whistle of appreciation, and then headed down to the office level.

With free access to Tony’s office, Darcy had begun simply using it as her own since Tony seldom set foot in it. Pepper said it was all right, so Darcy just sat at the desk and did her work, managing budgets and handling material requisitions and the occasional refit when Bruce accidentally hulked out and broke something expensive.

Today she was organizing the papers for several new patents that Tony and some of his underlings were filing. She was almost done when there was a tap at the door; it was Tony’s secretary, whose main job it was to answer calls, take messages, and turn away visitors. Only this was a temp, a young man who’d been on the job for about two weeks while the regular secretary was out on paternity leave. “Whats up, Devin?” she asked the young man.

Devin looked nervous. “Miss Lewis,” he said, “It’s none of my business, but who’s that man who walks around with Captain Am – I mean, Captain Rogers all the time?”

“Long dark hair?” Darcy asked.

Devin nodded. “I was just… wondering.”

Darcy studied him. “That’s James,” she said finally, feeling unaccountably wary about telling Devin anything useful. “He’s a friend of Steve’s.”

“Oh,” Devin said. “I was just… he looked familiar, and I thought…”

“I doubt it,” Darcy replied. “He’s from Indiana.” And that wasn’t even a lie; Steve and Bucky had discussed how Bucky was born in Indiana and moved to Brooklyn as a toddler.

“Oh,” Devin said. “I just… wondered.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Darcy said, eager to shut down this line of questioning. “It isn’t really your business.”

“Oh, of course,” Devin said, and he scurried back to his post.

Darcy made a mental note to have a new temp sent; something about Devin was rubbing her the wrong way. Why was he so interested in Bucky? When had he even _seen_ Bucky?

She opened an interoffice message on the computer and sent a note to JARVIS. _Please monitor the movements of Devin –_ she paused to check the man’s last name – _Parkinson. Log where he goes and what he does. And if you have any records of where he’s been, I’d like to know. Especially if you can cross reference any place where he might have crossed paths with Steve and Bucky._

_Certainly, Miss Lewis,_ JARVIS replied. _I take it this is to be kept confidential._

_Yes,_ Darcy told him. _Thank you._

Perhaps twenty minutes later, Darcy’s email beeped; JARVIS had compiled a full record of everywhere Devin had been.

_There is only one instance of Mr. Parkinson crossing paths with Sgt. Barnes,_ JARVIS told her. _He and Cpt. Rogers came down to Ms. Potts’s office last Thursday._

And JARVIS had helpfully included security footage of the incident; the elevator opened in between Pepper and Tony’s offices, and Devin had a direct line of sight when anyone stepped out. Steve and Bucky were looking toward Pepper’s office and didn’t pay any attention to Devin, who jumped like he’d been shot. His eyes tracked Steve and Bucky all the way into Pepper’s office and then he pulled his phone out and sent a text message.

_Who were you texting, Devin?_ Darcy wondered. That was definitely fishy behavior. Maybe she’d keep him on, just to keep an eye on him. She’d need to talk to the others and decide the best course of action.

In the meantime, she had work to do. She cast one more wary eye toward the door and Devin, and then she got back to working on the patent paperwork.

~*~

“So I think he’s a plant,” Darcy said that night as the Avengers gathered around the common room. She’d told them about Devin’s weird inquiries about Bucky and shown them the security footage, and they all agreed it was strange.

“I think you’re right,” Natasha said. “Only, a plant by whom?”

“No idea,” Darcy said.

“You know what I think?” Steve said suddenly. “I think we need to go back to Lehigh.”

“We got everything out of that room,” Clint protested.

“I don’t mean for that room,” Steve said. “But if they had Bucky there, what else have they got there?”

“Good point,” Tony said. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

~*~

When the morning came, the Avengers all piled into the jet. Darcy saw them off – she’d wanted to go as well, but was convinced to stay behind in case something should happen and there should be fighting. She wasn’t happy about it, but she’d seen the wisdom in what Steve was saying and, with a sigh, conceded.

“Besides,” Steve told her, leaning down to drop a kiss on her lips, “somebody’s got to be able to come with bail money if we all get arrested for breaking and entering.”

“It’s not breaking and entering if you have a key,” Darcy grumbled, but she did so with a slight smile, and Steve knew that all was forgiven.

They were wearing their suits just in case; Steve wasn’t kidding when he told Darcy that there was a possibility of fighting. There was no telling who or what might be hiding at Lehigh in addition to one frozen super soldier. It was a small base, but it was still ready-made for any splinter group that might have decided to colonize an empty space.

When they arrived at Lehigh, they started off by returning to the lab where Bucky had been stored. On entering the building, Natasha held a hand out. “Nobody walk here,” she said, pointing at several sets of boot tracks in the dust. “Those are fresh.”

“How can you tell?” Bucky asked, leaning over to look at them.

“They smudge the ones underneath them,” Natasha said. “And also they sort of wander in a couple of places. See?” She pointed out what she was talking about. “Those weren’t here when Clint and I were here the last time.”

“Somebody knows we have Bucky,” Steve said grimly.

Bucky looked nervous. “I don’t like that,” he said in his soft voice.

“Me either,” Clint agreed. “If they know we’ve got him, they might know we’ve defrosted him, and either way they’ll be wanting him back.”

Tony nodded. “I think it’s safe to say we don’t take any more excursions out of the tower until this is all settled.”

The others nodded in agreement.

They made their way toward the back wall, and Steve laughed when he saw the elevator. “Whoever our mystery person was,” he said, taking in the way it was only half open to the first floor, “they didn’t have an easy time getting out.” He reached into one of his tactical pouches, pulled out his Android phone, and snapped a picture of the stuck elevator, sending it to Darcy with no comment.

Tony gaped. “How – what – what the hell?”

Steve gave Tony a pitying expression. “Seriously, Tony, if I told you they’d written _gullible_ on the ceiling, you’d look.”

“I would not!” Tony spluttered.

Steve laughed. “Okay, Tony.”

Tony pointed a finger at Steve. “This isn’t over.”

“I look forward to your riposte,” Steve replied, smirking. He tucked his phone away, then led the way down the fire stairs to the lab.

They tossed the place as thoroughly as if they’d been looking for jewels or money, but found nothing; Tony did locate the machines he’d sent Darcy for, but that was clearly a secondary objective. Steve promised that they’d come back for the machines before leaving, and then they trooped back upstairs to see what else they could find. There was nothing on the main floor or the upstairs, and so they regrouped on the dry lawn by the jet and looked around.

Steve jerked in surprise suddenly. “That building doesn’t belong,” he said, pointing.

“It’s probably just built since your time,” Clint said, but Steve shook his head.

“No. That’s a munitions dump, and army regs prohibit munitions from being stored within five hundred yards of a barracks. Safety regs. If the munitions blow…”

“Right,” Tony said. “A building that doesn’t belong here. Who thinks that might be worth exploring?”

The others all raised their hands, and Tony laughed softly. “Let’s go take a look.”

The building was padlocked just like the other had been; this time, they didn’t have a key, so Steve unstrapped his shield from his back and slammed the edge of it into the lock. It burst apart, and Steve pulled the door open.

Natasha waved a hand in front of her face. “Gross.”

The others agreed, and this time it was Clint who stopped them from entering the building. “Look,” he said.

“Are those the same boot prints you saw, Natasha?” Bucky asked, examining the marks on the dusty floor.

Natasha nodded. “Sure looks like it.”

“Well, let’s go see what our mystery visitor was after,” Tony said, and they entered the building.

“What the hell?” Steve said softly, looking up at the huge SHIELD logo on the wall.

“This is SHIELD,” Natasha said unnecessarily. She gave a small shake of her head. “What is SHIELD doing here?”

“This is maybe where it started,” Steve said, walking slowly forward. He looked back and forth at all the desks, imagining what the place would have looked like full of people and business; he imagined Peggy at the head of it, giving orders, kicking ass, taking names.

“Let’s split up,” Bruce suggested. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”

They paired off: Bucky and Bruce, Steve and Tony, Natasha and Clint, and they spread out, each group taking a different direction to examine.

It was Tony who found the secret elevator. “If you already have a secret base,” he said to everyone over their comm units, “then what more secrets are you hiding behind the secret door?”

“Regroup,” Steve said. “Tony’s location. Tony, where are you?”

He gave them his location and they converged upon him; Steve gripped the built-in bookshelf and pulled, grunting a little, finally opening it to reveal an elevator. “Well,” Bucky said, “I don’t suppose we can take the fire stairs this time.”

“Haven’t seen any,” Bruce agreed.

“If we get stuck down here,” Steve said, striding forward, “Darcy is never going to let me live it down.”

They piled into the elevator and Clint pushed the button for the basement.

The door opened on a pitch-dark space, but as they walked forward, the lights came on by themselves. Tony let out a squeak. “Holy shit,” he said. “This is amazing.”

“This is _ancient_ ,” Natasha commented.

“That makes it even better,” Tony replied. “There must be three hundred thousand feet of tape in this place. I can’t imagine what kind of data’s being saved in these banks.”

They approached a dais in the middle of the room where a central terminal stood, and Bruce spoke. “Well, _that’s_ not ancient.” Everyone turned from their contemplation of the room itself to look at what Bruce had found: a nearly new, dust-free USB hub. “Somebody’s been using this stuff.”

“Oh, this is terrific,” Tony said. “I’m taking this home.”

“What, all of it?” Clint asked.

Tony nodded. “Every piece of it. I’ll store it on one of the empty floors; it’s going to be so much fun to see what’s on it.”

“How the hell are you going to get all of this home?” Steve asked, frowning at Tony.

Tony grinned. “Steve,” he said, “I am a billionaire. If I say to make something happen, it happens. See? All I have to do is call Logistics and they’ll have people out here almost fast enough to make your head spin.”

“Is it a good idea to take this?” Bruce asked. “I just wonder – ”

“They’re already going to know we’ve been here and we know about the place,” Clint pointed out. “We might as well rob them while we’re at it. Who knows? Maybe they’ll panic when they find out we’ve taken it all and, I don’t know. Do something.”

“Like attack us?” Bruce said dryly.

Tony shrugged. “If they do, they’ve got nasty surprises coming their way.”

“We might as well take it,” Bucky said, echoing Clint. “You took me, and they have to know about that by now. We might as well take this, too. It might be important.”

“Anyone opposed to robbing the shit out of whoever this is?” Clint asked.

The others all shook their heads, and Tony pulled out his phone, calling his logistics department and making the arrangements to have trucks come and remove all the computer parts.

“We need to stay until they get here,” Tony said. “I want to make sure every part is marked and every cord is labeled. All we need is to get it home and not be able to put it back together again.”

“That would suck,” Clint agreed.

They waited then, Tony wandering through the room to examine the technology carefully. “I’m dating this to the mid seventies,” he said, coming back to the middle of the room. “This is _old._ ”

“This whole place is old,” Clint agreed. “But I feel like this might have been put in after SHIELD left the building.”

Tony nodded. “Well, hopefully we’ll find out.”


	5. Chapter 5

Logistics took a couple of hours to get there, but when they arrived it was with box trucks and loaders enough to handle the job. Tony, now out of his suit, ran back and forth with stickers and a Sharpie, marking pieces of equipment and the cords that attached to them, while the woman in charge followed him, drawing a diagram of the room with each piece marked.

“I want this set up on 74 in lab 5,” Tony said. “I’ll arrange with JARVIS to get you access for as long as it takes to do the setup.”

The woman nodded. “We’ll take care of it,” she said. Then she flicked a hand through a streak of dust on her shirt. “Do you want us to do cleanup?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said. “The only way to get this mess cleaned up would be to run it through a car wash.”

She nodded again. “Got it.” She finished her sketch and showed it to him; he signed off on it and she twirled a finger at the loaders. “Let’s go,” she said, and within fifteen minutes, the room was empty.

The Avengers went outside long enough to see the trucks off, and then Tony turned to Steve. “You see anything else out of place?”

Steve, laughing, shook his head. “No,” he said. “I think we may have found everything we’re looking for.”

“We can always come back,” Bruce pointed out.

Bucky shook his head. “After this, if there’s anything else here, they’ll take it with them.”

“Do you think there’s anything else?” Natasha asked him.

Bucky closed his eyes and thought hard for a second. When he opened them, he looked at her and suddenly shook his head, hard. “Маленький паук.”

“You used to call us that,” Natasha replied. “Little spiders.”

“I… I don’t remember. Why?”

“We were training in the Black Widow program,” she told him. “And so. Little spiders.”

“We. There were a lot of you?” he asked. His brow furrowed. “Little girls?”

She nodded. “Little girls training to be killers,” she said. “It’s where I came from. You helped train us for a time. Knife work.”

“It was in Russia,” he said. “In the winter. I remember.”

She nodded. “And we called you Солдат,” she said. “We didn’t know your name.”

“Hell, _I_ didn’t know my name,” Bucky replied. He studied her. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said softly. “You never hurt any of us.”

He let out a breath of relief. “Good,” he said, his voice very small. “Good.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “As much as I hate to break up Retro Hour, we need to know if there’s anything else on this base that we need.”

Bucky shook his head. “I have no idea. They must have brought me here in the tube, because I don’t remember being here.”

“All right,” Steve said, “I’m making an executive decision. Let’s split up again and work our way through the buildings. You find anything, you call it on the comms and we’ll all come have a look. We’ve got all day; we may as well use it.”

They did just that, splitting up and working their way methodically through the buildings of the camp, but no one found anything else worth looking at, so they retrieved the original equipment Tony had wanted and then all gathered again at the jet. “All right,” Clint said as they all loaded in, “At least we can’t say we didn’t check.”

“Better that we did,” Steve replied. “I’d hate to have missed a clue.”

“I have a feeling all the clues we need are going to be in that computer system,” Tony said. “I can’t wait to open that thing up.”

~*~

Darcy looked around the room at the computer setup and shook her head. “This is amazing,” she said. “It looks like something they would have used to launch _Apollo_ or something.”

“You’re not far off,” Tony replied, studying the USB hub. “ _Apollo_ was 1969; I’m dating this to the mid 1970s.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to copy it all onto a thumb drive,” Tony replied. “And then JARVIS and I are going to study it on a secure system and see if we can figure out what’s on it.”

“Why not just turn it on?” Darcy asked, feeling eminently reasonable.

“I did,” Tony replied. “It’s missing the launch software.”

“Ah,” Darcy said, pretending to understand.

“There’s a thumb drive out there somewhere that has a program on it that launches whatever’s on this computer,” Tony explained. “I don’t necessarily need it; I might be able to reconstruct it from the raw data. But I don’t know, so JARVIS and I are going to take it apart.”

“Aha,” Darcy said. “Makes sense.” She studied the setup some more, then shook her head. “I just can’t figure out why the whole thing hasn’t been upgraded since 1975 or whatever. I mean… once you can’t upgrade the OS any more, you just get a new machine, right?”

“Right,” Tony agreed, tapping his chin. “Unless whatever you’re dealing with can’t be copied.”

“What data can’t be copied?” Darcy scoffed.

Tony shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “But you can damn well bet I’m going to try to find out.”

“Well, if you need help, I’m the wrong person to call,” Darcy replied. “Want me to make coffee?”

“Yeah,” Tony replied. He looked around. “Did they bring a coffee machine in?”

“Yes, and a couch for you to lie down on,” Darcy replied, pointing. “And a mini fridge with water and things. But if you want food you’re going to have to come out. That’s the rule.”

“Okay, good,” Tony said. “Good. Yes, coffee, please.”

“On it,” Darcy replied. She wandered over to the coffee machine and started it up, then said, “JARVIS, please make Tony stop after five hours. If he won’t stop, let me know.”

“Certainly, Miss Lewis,” JARVIS replied.

“Thanks, JARVIS.” Darcy, with one glance back at Tony, left the room. She headed back upstairs and stopped by Pepper’s secretary. “Is she in?”

“Conference call,” the secretary replied.

“When she has a minute, can you buzz me?”

“You bet.”

Darcy rounded the divider panel between Pepper’s area and Tony’s, and nodded at Devin, who was still there. _Better the spy you know,_ Natasha had said, and Darcy agreed that this was probably true.

“Hey, Miss Lewis,” Devin said. “Good day?”

“Interesting,” Darcy replied. “Tony’s got new toys down on the secure floors and I’m _really_ wishing Thor would come back so I can play ambassador instead of slogging papers, but at least it keeps me from being bored.”

Devin grinned. “Nothing boring about this job, huh?”

“Not a damn thing,” Darcy agreed. She went into Tony’s office and shut the door, then moved away from it to Tony’s desk. _JARVIS? Is he texting?_ she asked the AI through the messenger.

 _He is, Miss Lewis,_ JARVIS replied. _However, he has neglected to note that he is using the office wi-fi._ ”

“Idiot,” Darcy said aloud, laughing softly. _Is he saying anything interesting?_

 _I believe so,_ JARVIS replied. _He has alerted someone that you’ve told him Tony has a new project, and he has received orders to find out what it is._

Darcy thought that it was a good thing floor 74 was secure. _He has no_ _need to_ _access floor 74,_ she told JARVIS. _If he tries to go there, I’d like to know immediately._

 _Yes, Miss Lewis,_ JARVIS replied, and Darcy nodded once, satisfied. Then she turned to her regular job and went to work.

~*~

“What do you mean Zola’s gone?” Rollins demanded, turning to face Harris in a disused basement archive at the Triskelion.

“I mean it’s gone,” Harris replied, a little hysterical. “ _Gone_. All of it. Every piece of equipment that was in that room is gone.”

“How the hell is it gone?!” Rumlow demanded.

“From what I can tell from the tracks, they came with trucks and carried it all away.” Harris shook his head. “It’s gone.”

“Pierce is gonna kill us,” Rollins said flatly. “If we don’t find that thing, we are literally dead men walking.”

“Stark has it,” Rumlow said. “It has to be him. He’s got the Asset and now he’s got Zola and before long he’s going to know everything.”

“Well, what the fuck do we do?” Rollins asked.

Rumlow looked up at him. “Honestly? I can’t think of anything. There’s literally no way into that building without getting past the AI and all the security, and Stark’s a paranoid motherfucker. He’s got redundancies in his redundancies. There’s no way in. If he’s got Zola, he’s just got Zola.”

“I know what I’m going to do,” Harris said.

Rollins looked over at him. “What’s that?”

Harris clenched his jaw grimly. “I’m going to run.”

“They’ll find you,” Rollins replied.

“Not if I’m careful. I’ve got enough saved up to get far, far away from here, which is exactly where I want to be when Pierce finds out about this. I’m not dying for this shit.”

“Yeah,” Rumlow said, “you are.” He drew his gun, cocked it, and shot Harris in the chest.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Rollins demanded. “Now we gotta clean that up and stash the body.”

“Leave it,” Rumlow replied. “Nobody comes down here anyway.”

Rollins glared at him. “I’m supposed to be the one in charge of the team anyway,” he said. “That was my job.”

“Didn’t see you doing it,” Rumlow replied.

“Yeah, well at least I didn’t lose the fucking Asset,” Rollins snapped back. “Pull that kind of shit again and I’m reporting you to Pierce.”

“Nobody else to pull it on except you,” Rumlow replied, smirking. “We’re a two-man team now.”

“Fuck you, Rumlow,” Rollins said. “You try that shit on me and you’ll be dead.”

Rumlow, who still had his gun in his hand, raised it to point it at Rollins. “Bet your life?”

“Fuck you,” Rollins said again, but it wasn’t quite as firm as it had been a minute ago.

Laughing, Rumlow holstered his gun. “I’m just fucking with you, man,” he said. “You stay loyal and there’s no reason why we even have to worry about it.” He held out a fist. “We’re cool?”

 _He’s snapped,_ Rollins realized. “Yeah,” he replied, bumping Rumlow’s fist with his. “We’re cool.”

They split up after leaving the sub basement, Rumlow getting off at Records and Rollins heading further upward. He was supposed to be heading to the range to practice, but as soon as Rumlow was off the elevator, he changed his destination. He didn’t care what happened; he was telling Pierce what was going on. Rumlow had lost his fucking mind, and Pierce needed to know he had a loose cannon on the team. Anything could happen with a guy like Rumlow off the leash. Anything at all.

~*~

That night, Bucky went to bed early and Steve and Darcy followed not far behind. They slid into Steve’s bed together and curled up close. “So, how was your day, honey?” Darcy asked, grinning a little.

Steve dropped a kiss on her lips. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old.”

She laughed. “So what was there besides that computer setup?”

“Not anything that we could find,” Steve said. “We split up and searched the place, but everything else was emptied out. Even the barracks had been stripped clean.”

“So just the computer, then,” Darcy said. “Well, maybe Tony will figure out what’s on it.”

“If anybody can, Tony can.”

“Oh, by the way, I got your snide picture of the elevator,” Darcy said, poking Steve in the side where he was ticklish. He squeaked, and they both laughed. “Jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah, I couldn’t resist. Besides, you should have seen the look on Tony’s face when I pulled that Samsung out of my pocket.”

“I bet it was priceless; you should’ve taken a picture of _that_.”

“I should have, shouldn’t I?” Steve mused. “Opportunity missed. Maybe I’ll draw it and stick it up on the refrigerator in the common room.”

Darcy snorted. “Perfect. Can you do caricatures?”

“No, but I can do blue drawings,” he said. “I ever tell you that I drew for the blue bibles they used to print?”

She gasped, her eyes going wide. “No! You drew for the Tijuana bibles?”

“Is that what they call them now?” Steve asked. “We just called ‘em blue books or eight pagers. They paid good, though – two dollars per book. That was a lot of money back then.”

“I bet,” Darcy said, thinking of what she knew about prices for things in the Depression and the early forties.

“Well, we lived on the fourth floor in a walk-up,” Steve said, “so our rent was a little cheaper; it was only nine dollars a month. The people on the ground floor paid twelve.”

Darcy thought of the rent on her little off-campus apartment near Culver University and winced. “In Brooklyn the same room today would probably go for a thousand bucks,” she said.

He grimaced. “Yeah, I looked at rent when I first… got here. It’s one of the reasons I took Tony up on his offer to live in the tower.”

“Steve,” Darcy said, “how long were you here before the aliens attacked?”

Steve thought about it. “Five weeks,” he said after a moment.

Darcy let out a low whistle. “So you’ve actually been here for…”

“Six months,” Steve replied.

“Jesus,” Darcy said softly. “I didn’t realize it had been such a short time.”

He nodded. “It’s been six months,” he said. “Hell, you and I have been together for four months now.”

“We have, haven’t we?” she said. “And we’ve had Bucky for a month and a half.” She paused. “He’s so much better, Steve,” she said softly.

“He really is,” Steve said. “He remembers things about half the time, and he’s got his sense of humor and most of his confidence back. I’m just…” He paused, swallowing hard. “I’m just so fucking happy to have him back.”

Steve rarely swore in front of her, so Darcy knew the depth of his emotion. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight. “I know you are,” she said. “And I’m so happy for both of you.”

“Darce,” Steve said, suddenly cautious, “since you brought him up… there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

She sat up, crossing her legs and studying him. “You sound serious.”

“I am serious. This is serious.”

She nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Lay it on me.”

“Okay, so… I’ve never told anyone this before, but… I’m… I’m bisexual.”

She took his hand. “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “I’m honored that you trusted me.”

He smiled wanly at her. “Thank you for not freaking out.”

“Oh, Steve. I’ve dated bi boys before.”

He laughed sharply. “I see.”

She grinned. “So it’s no worries to me.”

“Well, I’m not quite done yet,” Steve said, and he hesitated. “See, there’s something you need to know about… about me and Bucky.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, and then it clicked in her head. “Ohhhhh,” she said. “You and Bucky were together.”

Steve nodded. “Since we were teenagers,” he admitted.

“Jesus,” Darcy said. “If you two ever come out, there’s a whole subset of historians who are going to be owed drinks until the end of time.”

Steve blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“There’s a big debate among historians about whether you and Bucky were more than friends,” Darcy explained. “I had a roommate who wrote a paper about it once. They’re generally considered crackpots; the prevailing theory is that – ” and here she deepened her voice to imitate a professor’s stentorian tones “ – Captain America would never have been homosexual because the military would never have chosen a homosexual to be Captain America.”

Steve laughed at that. “Captain America and his faithful sidekick almost got blue carded after they got caught in the showers,” he admitted. “Bet they don’t put _that_ in the history books.”

“No, no they don’t,” Darcy replied, grinning. “How’d you get out of it?”

“Played the Captain America card,” Steve admitted. “How’d it look if Cap got drummed out on a blue card, so on and so forth. Then they were going to transfer Bucky away, but I told Phillips that if they did, I’d tell everybody I was a fairy from the lowest private to Eisenhower himself.”

“Jesus, Steve,” Darcy exclaimed. “But I guess it worked.”

“It was all I could think of to do,” Steve said. “And I know it was – what’s that thing Clint said? The nuclear option. But I had to do something.”

“What did Phillips say?”

“He said that was my one and only chance to play that card and that if it happened again he’d have Bucky blue-carded and sent to Leavenworth.”

“Talk about nuclear options,” Darcy said, blowing out a low whistle.

Steve nodded. “I didn’t care. I just knew… well. You know.” He shrugged. “So anyway, now you know my biggest secret.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Darcy said again. Then she said, “Do you think Bucky remembers?”

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted. “He hasn’t said anything to me to indicate if he does.”

She chewed her lip. “Maybe… you should ask him.”

He stared at her. “Sorry?”

“Maybe you should ask him,” she said again. “I feel like, with him knowing we’re together now, he might not want to bring it up and cause problems.”

“Maybe _I_ don’t want to bring it up and cause problems, though,” Steve pointed out. “If he doesn’t remember, it could make him really uncomfortable. And if he _does_ remember and wants to pick back up again, then what?”

“Well,” Darcy said carefully, “then what happens then depends a lot on you, doesn’t it?”

“How do you mean?” Steve asked. “I’m not going to cheat on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Of course not,” Darcy replied. “You’re not a cheater except at cards. But… would you want to get back with him, if he wanted to get back with you?”

“Darce,” Steve said, “I’m not going to leave you, either. Not unless you leave me first.”

Darcy sighed. “Steve,” she said, “are you at all familiar with the French phrase _ménage à trois_?”

He stared at her. “You mean you’d want to…”

She shrugged. “He’s hot, and if you’re both into it, I’d give it a shot. But only if you’re both into it, and part of that requires knowing whether or not he remembers that you guys used to bang.”

He considered her, then leaned in and kissed her, hard. “You’re a hell of a girl, Darce,” he said softly. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

She nodded. “Let me know what you decide.” She kissed him back. “For now, though, since it’s just you and me…”

Three days later, Thor arrived.

~*~

He did not arrive in a clap of thunder or with the whooshes and booms of the rainbow bridge; instead, he arrived in a taxi. “I thought it would be better to appear without a great deal of pomp and circumstance,” he explained to the gathered Avengers in the common room. “The fewer people who know I am here, the greater my chances of success in my mission.”

“And what exactly is your mission?” Tony asked. “Because the last time you were here, it was to collect your homicidal brother.”

Thor looked uncomfortable. “Well, you see,” he said. “The thing is,” he said.

“He’s loose again, isn’t he?” Darcy said dryly. “You might as well just spit it out.”

“My brother is a master of illusion,” Thor said simply, as though that explained everything – and, honestly, it probably did, at least to him.

“When you say illusion,” Bucky asked, “can you elaborate a little bit, for those of us who don’t know who the hell you or your brother are?”

Thor smiled broadly at this. “Bucky,” he said, “I look forward to knowing your story. For now, though, suffice it to say that my brother… well.” He took a deep breath, clearly looking for where to start. “My brother studied the magical arts as a youth, whereas I studied the martial ones. I grew up to be a warrior, like our father, and my brother a strong practitioner of the arcane, as is our mother.”

“Magic,” Bucky said skeptically.

“It’s true,” Steve said. “I’ve seen him do it.”

“He doesn’t have his scepter any more, though,” Clint pointed out, looking a little green around the gills at the idea of Loki being loose.

“He does not need the scepter,” Thor said. “In fact, I have no idea where he even got it; he never used such a tool before arriving on this world.”

“Thor,” Darcy said, “if Loki’s loose, do you think he’s out for revenge?”

“I don’t know,” Thor said honestly. “Loki has never been one to seek revenge in the past – at least, not to my knowledge. So I have no idea, honestly.”

“Are we sure he’s even coming here?” Jane asked suddenly. “You told me there are tons of other worlds. What if he’s gone to one of those?”

“He would not have gone to Jotunheim,” Thor said. “Nor to Svartalfheim, Muspelheim, or Niflheim. To any other of the Nine Realms – or places beyond – I could not begin to guess. But I feel certain, insofar as I am able to be certain, that he will come here.”

“It’s not revenge, it’s unfinished business,” Tony said.

Thor nodded. “Yes,” he said simply.

“So what do we do?” Natasha wanted to know.

Thor sighed deeply. “I do not know.”

“If he’s here after unfinished business,” Steve said, “he’s going to come to us.”

“He’d better not come to me,” Clint said. “He may not be the revenge type, but I am.”

Thor looked uncomfortable but didn’t speak; Clint had a right to feel the way he felt, and everyone knew it.

“Right,” Darcy said. “So he’s a master of illusion. What does that mean? Give us an idea of his capabilities.”

“He can make himself look like anyone or anything he chooses, so long as it is alive,” Thor replied. “He can also become invisible.”

“Oh, great, so he could be standing here right now and we’d never know it,” Bucky said.

Thor looked uncomfortable again. "I… suppose so,” he admitted.

“Well, I’ll certainly be paranoid when I shower tonight,” Bucky said.

“Freezer Pop, you’re always paranoid,” Tony pointed out.

Bucky shrugged. “Tell me I don’t have a reason.”

“Granted,” Tony said, and turned back to Thor. “So how do we find him?”

“I believe he will come to us,” Thor said. “But if he doesn’t appear within a few days, my mother has said she will come and help us find him.”

“Your mother?” Darcy asked. “The Queen of Asgard?”

Thor nodded. Then he grinned at Darcy. “Your skills as a diplomat will be much in demand.”

“SHIELD is going to pass out when I tell them.”

“Who do you even report to now that Coulson’s gone?” Clint asked.

“Jasper Sitwell,” Darcy replied. “I don’t like him as well as I liked Coulson, but he’s okay, I guess.”

“He’s a douche,” Clint said, shaking his head. “He fakes it well, but when you have to deal with him for long periods of time…”

“He left Clint behind on a mission once,” Natasha said, looking fierce – her main tell when she was angry. “I had to go back and get him on my own.”

“Oh, that’s fucked up,” Darcy said. “I don’t like him any more.”

Clint looked pleased but said nothing.

“Okay, so what are we going to do with Loki when we catch him?” Tony asked. “Hell, _how_ do we even catch him? None of us are equipped to deal with things like that.”

“If he comes to you, try to touch him,” Thor said. “His illusions can’t be touched; one’s hand goes through them much like through a spirit. If you _can_ touch him, though...” Thor pulled a box out of his carry-sack and held it out. “I have these.” He opened the box to reveal a jumble of silver bracelets.

“And what are those?” Steve asked, leaning forward to look at them.

“They are handcuffs,” Thor replied. “I brought enough for each of us to wear one. If you’re able to get hold of him, they will expand on their own and he will be cuffed to you, unable to escape.”

“And they’re, what, set to him?” Bucky asked.

Thor nodded. “They have been… I believe your word is programmed? … to recognize his biometric signature.” He slipped a bracelet onto his wrist, then reached out and took Darcy’s hand. The bracelet stayed a normal bracelet, and he drew his hand back again. “So if I touch someone who is not Loki, the bracelet stays as it is. But if I touch Loki, the bracelet immediately cuffs itself to him, and he is unable to escape.”

“You hope,” Tony said.

“I know,” Thor replied. “I have seen them in use before. Not on Loki, obviously, but on other criminals.” He paused, then grimaced. “I never thought I would use the word ‘criminal’ to describe my own brother, and yet, here we are.”

Darcy leaned forward and squeezed Thor’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, she said softly. “I know this is tough for you, too.”

He gave her a wan smile. “Not nearly as difficult as it has been for some of you.” He looked up at Clint. “I am sorry, as well, for what he put you through.”

Clint nodded in acknowledgement of the sentiment, but said, “You don’t need to be sorry. It isn’t your fault.”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Thor mused. “Sometimes I think perhaps, had I done things differently when we were growing up…” He shook his head. “But no. This responsibility is not mine to bear; nor is it that of my parents, though they may… Well. No, Loki’s actions are his alone.”

“That’s right,” Jane said, a little fierceness in her tone. “This isn’t your fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Clint agreed. “If we could be blamed for what our siblings did, I’d have a lot more obligation toward my asshole brother than you do to yours. But we’re not responsible for what other people do. The only person you can control is you.”

Thor looked up at Clint. “Thank you, my friend,” he said softly. “Coming especially from you, who have been greatly wronged, this means much.”

That night, Darcy found herself standing in the bathroom with Steve, preparing to shower, and reluctant to undress. “Bucky was right,” she said. “I feel _really_ paranoid about getting naked when he could be around, invisible.”

Steve nodded. “I understand,” he said. “But we can’t let him rule our lives.”

Shucking her shirt, Darcy nodded. “You’re right,” she said, tossing it into the open hamper. “All right, then, and if he _is_ watching, I hope he enjoys the show.”

Steve, pushing his pants down over his hips, laughed softly. “At least neither of us has anything to be ashamed of.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “You know you wouldn’t have to be ashamed, even if it was small, right? That’s just the way some people are made.”

“I know,” Steve said, but there was something in his tone that told her he didn’t believe her.

  
She shook her head, dumping the rest of her clothing into the hamper. “Well. It doesn’t matter.” She waved a hand. “Let’s get clean and go to bed.” She grabbed a hair tie and pulled her hair up into a bun to keep it out of the water, then climbed into the shower and stepped into the spray.

He followed her, ducking under the water and being careful not to get his own hair wet; Darcy hated damp pillowcases, and he didn’t mind showering again in the morning to wash his hair. “One thing about it,” he said, “at least we have these handy magic bracelets.”

She reached out to touch him, and the bracelet did nothing. “Works better than a password,” she replied.

“I thought about that,” he said. “Using a password, I mean. But if he could be there invisibly, then he might hear us come up with a password and then be able to use it against us.”

“Talk about paranoia,” Darcy said. “I think I’m going to be looking over my shoulder for days after this. Maybe longer.”

“I definitely will until we have him under arrest,” Steve agreed. “I hate the not knowing more than anything else. And the illusions, too. He could look like anyone.”

“By the time this is over, we’re all going to be very used to touching each other,” Darcy pointed out, and Steve waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. She gave him a playful shove on the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m going to start hugging Tony,” Steve said. “That ought to scare him.”

“It will freak him completely out,” Darcy agreed, laughing.

“I wonder what will happen if I hug Tony and it turns out to be Loki,” Steve mused, finishing up and stepping out of the shower to dry off.

“You’ll be stuck to him,” Darcy replied, shutting off the water and taking the towel that he offered her. “You’ll be stuck hugging Loki.”

“It would serve him right,” Steve replied. “I can’t imagine he’d like it any more than I would.”

“You have to hug Tony at least once, though,” Darcy said, wiping at the droplets of water on her skin. “And you have to do it where I can see.”

“Okay, talking about sharing with Bucky is one thing,” Steve teased, and Darcy groaned.

“I do _not_ want to think about Tony like that. He’s great and all, but _no._ ”

Steve laughed, taking Darcy’s hands and leading her toward the bed. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll hug you for awhile.”

“Ooh,” Darcy said, grinning. “I like the sound of that. Steve hugs are best hugs.”

“That’s good to hear,” he told her, and they fell into bed together.


	6. Chapter 6

Frigga, the Queen of Asgard, arrived without fanfare on a quiet Saturday morning. The Avengers and Darcy came to meet her in the jet; she landed in the desert outside of what had been Puente Antiguo and would need a ride to New York. She greeted them all with a gentle friendliness that belied her royal status; when Bucky attempted to call her _Your Majesty_ respectfully, she just smiled and patted his shoulder. “ _Frigga_ will do,” she told him. “We have no need to stand on ceremony.”

As they rode back in the jet, Frigga studied Bucky carefully. When he noticed and got nervous, she gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for staring,” she said. “it’s only that I’m a healer on Asgard, of some renown if I may be so bold as to speak for myself, and I can see the injury to your mind. But it heals rapidly, even without intervention, and I confess that I am astonished – I had not thought humans had such regenerative powers.”

“Oh, well,” Bucky said, diffident. “I got this serum, you see, so I’m what you call enhanced. I got fast healing and stuff.”

“Ah,” Frigga said. “I understand. That’s good! I would have offered my own services as a healer, but you honestly have no need of them. You heal on your own and at your own pace just fine.”

Bucky smiled slightly. “Yeah, I’m doing all right,” he said. He glanced at Steve. “My pal’s helping me out.”

Frigga smiled. “It is good to have friends.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.

They brought her to the tower and set her up in style in her own suite; it was clearly nothing like as grand as what she was used to, but she assured them that it was enough for her needs. Tony introduced her to JARVIS, and then they all retreated, leaving her with Thor.

By the time they made it back to the common room, Darcy’s phone was ringing. She answered it and mouthed _Sitwell_ at the others. “Yes,” she said, “she’s here. No, you cannot come and meet – _no,_ Sitwell. She’s in with Thor right now anyway.” She paused for Sitwell to speak and then blew out a breath. “This – Sitwell, this isn’t a lark! _I’m_ the ambassador to Asgard and I’m doing my job. You need to leave me alone to do it.” He spoke again, and Darcy’s cheeks went red with anger. “No, you won’t, and JARVIS won’t let you in if you try.” Another pause, and then she said, “Because I don’t answer to you. I _report_ to you as a _favor_ , but Phil Coulson told me specifically who I _answer_ to, and that’s Nick Fury. Furthermore, the tower is private property belonging to Tony Stark, and if SHIELD thinks it can just _invade_ private property, well, you have another think coming.” She hung up with a vicious stab to the phone screen, then looked up at the others. “Hanging up on someone isn’t _nearly_ as satisfying as it used to be when you could slam down the receiver.”

Darcy’s phone rang again; she looked at it and rejected the call, then put her phone on silent. “So,” she said, “I guess now I get to do my _real_ job for once.” She grinned. “And my dad said I’d never be able to do anything worthwhile with a political science degree.”

Steve laughed. “I’d say this is pretty worthwhile.”

“So do I,” Darcy agreed.

Tony tilted his head, curious. “Does your dad know what you do now?”

She shook her head. “He just knows I work with you guys; he doesn’t know about the ambassador to Asgard part.”

“Come to think of it,” Clint said suddenly, “does the _government_ know you’re ambassadoring?”

Darcy laughed. “I don’t think so,” she admitted. “Officially I’m SHIELD’s liaison to the Asgardians, rather than being an official ambassador.”

“Maybe that should become official,” Natasha said thoughtfully.

“God, no,” Darcy said. “The _last_ thing I want to do is have to answer to Congress or something.”

“Point,” Natasha agreed.

“No, I’d much rather remain SHIELD’s liaison. Besides, if an official ambassador _does_ become necessary, I have a feeling Thor will ask for me anyway, so…” Darcy shrugged. “Might as well wait until I have to do it.”

Natasha nodded.

“Well,” said Bucky, “what do we do now?”

“We wait,” Darcy said. “Thor will let us know when they need us.”

“Well, I’m going to go take a nap,” Bucky said. “My brain is tired.”

Steve immediately gave him a concerned look. “Are you okay, Buck?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said, reaching out and patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

Steve nodded. “Okay,” he said. “You’ll let me know if you’re not?”

“Promise,” Bucky replied. He patted Steve’s shoulder again, then turned and headed for the elevator.

Steve watched him go, still concerned, but then turned his attention back to the others. “Okay, well, what are we going to do in the meantime?”

“I’m going back to work on that computer from Lehigh,” Tony replied immediately.

Bruce nodded. “I’ve got stuff in the lab,” he said.

Clint considered, then shrugged. “I was going to go down to the range and shoot things.”

Steve brightened. “Can I come?”

Clint laughed. “Sure. I’ll teach you how to handle a bow.”

“I can always use a new weapon.” Steve stood up.

“Just don’t shoot yourself in the foot,” Darcy warned. She stood as well. “Natasha? Plans?”

“I may go take a nap, too,” she said. “It’s been a busy morning.”

“I wish I could,” Darcy said, watching the others all scatter. “I’ve got too much to do. Plus, I need to be available when Thor calls.”

“How’s Jane taking all this?” Natasha asked.

Darcy shrugged. “She’s buried herself in the lab. I think she’s mad but I’m not sure why and she’s not talking.”

“Keep working on her,” Natasha said. “If I had to guess, she’s got her head up her own ass about Thor.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Darcy replied. “He’s been a little busy since he got here, and she might be upset about not… I don’t know, I don’t want to say that she isn’t getting enough attention from him or something, because that makes her sound petty and childish, but…”

Natasha nodded. “But,” she agreed.

“So… yeah.” Darcy sighed, then squared her shoulders. “I’m gonna go talk to her. I may drag her downstairs for coffee or something.”

“Don’t leave the tower,” Natasha reminded her. “You can be easily held for leverage.”

Darcy nodded. “No worries; I have no desire to be kidnapped.”

Natasha smiled. “We’d come get you, you know.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I want the experience.” Darcy grinned, then bumped Natasha with her shoulder. “Go nap,” she said. “I’ll go talk to Jane.”

~*~

Darcy had to hunt to find Jane, and when she located her friend, Jane was in her apartment… packing.

“Going somewhere?” Darcy asked, raising her eyebrows at the sight of Jane’s half-full bag.”

“Upstate to the facility there,” Jane replied. “I need the big telescope.”

“Liar,” Darcy accused without heat.

Jane rounded on her. “Excuse me?”

“You’re being a child, Jane. He’s got to find his brother, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it!” Jane exclaimed. “I’ve barely seen him in three days!”

“ _He has to find Loki,_ ” Darcy said, her voice low and firm. “Come on, you know that has to take precedence.”

Jane’s eyes flashed and her face went red, and she looked as if she wanted to scream at Darcy – and then, quite suddenly, she deflated. “I know,” she admitted quietly. “I just… I just feel like he’s barely looked at me since he’s been here.”

“Is he or is he not staying in this room with you?” Darcy pointed out. “He has his own suite upstairs, just like Steve does, but he’s staying down here _with you._ Of course you barely see him. But he barely sees you, too, and I bet he’d like to.”

Jane sighed. “You’re right,” she said.

“Of course I am,” Darcy replied.

Jane looked around the room. “I guess I kind of was throwing a tantrum, wasn’t I?” she said, a little ruefully.

“Kind of,” Darcy agreed. “But only a little one.” She nudged Jane with her elbow. “Come on, let’s get this all cleaned up before he comes in and sees it and thinks you’ve lost your damn mind.”

They had, in fact, just finished hanging up the last of Jane’s clothes when the main door opened and Thor called out, “Hello, Jane? JARVIS said you were here. May I come in?”

Jane kicked the suitcase under the bed and headed out of the bedroom. “Hey,” she said, smiling broadly. “Come on in. Darcy and I were just talking about you.”

Darcy, following Jane out of the bedroom, waved at Thor. “Hey, Thor.”

Thor grinned broadly. “Hello, Darcy.”

“I’m going to get out of your way,” Darcy said. “Thor, is your mom settling in okay?”

“She is well. But before you leave, I would ask you both: do you know of any sites sacred to the Asgardians in this area?”

“No,” Darcy said after a long moment of thought. Jane shook her head as well. “But…” Darcy considered what she knew about Norse mythology. “Oak trees, right?” When Thor nodded, Darcy said, “There are tons of oak trees in Central Park; I bet we could find a nice secluded grove.”

Thor brightened. “That would be wonderful,” he said. “My mother needs a place to do her work, and such a grove would be just what she needed.”

“Magic,” Darcy said, looking over at Jane. “It’s magic.”

“It’s sufficiently advanced technology,” Jane replied, smirking.

“Whatever,” Darcy said. To Thor, she continued, “I’ll check out the maps of the park and find us a place. Let me know when she wants to go.”

“I will,” Thor replied. “I thank you, Darcy.”

“Hey, you’re always welcome, big guy,” Darcy replied. “I owe you for tasing you that one time.”

He laughed at that. “There is no owing for that; as you put it, I was freaking you out.”

“You really were,” Darcy agreed, grinning. She patted his arm. “All right. I’m going. See you later.”

“Hey, Darcy,” Jane said as Darcy reached the door. Darcy paused, turning to look at Jane. Jane smiled. “Thanks.”

Darcy smiled back. “Anytime,” she said, and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

~*~

Bucky woke up with a start; it had been afternoon when he went to sleep, but the sun was dropping behind the skyscrapers now, and it was getting dark in the room, and he wasn’t alone.

He slid his hand between the couch cushions, pulling out a well-balanced throwing knife, and came up off the couch smoothly, turning and slinging the knife at the man who sat at the kitchen table.

The knife went right through him and embedded itself into the wall, and the man laughed. “Now, don’t you feel silly?” he asked.

“No,” Bucky replied. “If you’d actually been sitting there, you’d be dead and we’d have one less problem.”

“And how do _you_ know I’m a problem?” Loki asked. “You didn’t even exist the last time I was on this godsforsaken ball of mud.”

“I know you let loose aliens on New York,” Bucky replied. “That’s all I need to know.”

Loki made a _tsk_ sound. “As if this world wouldn’t be better off being ruled by me. Look at the mess you creatures have made of it.”

“Well, it’s our mess to clean up,” Bucky replied. “You can mind your own business.”

Loki made the _tsk_ sound again. “Ungrateful.”

“Get out unless you want to have the balls to show up here in person,” Bucky replied. “I’ve got shit to do that doesn’t involve you.”

“Rude,” Loki replied, but he vanished.

Bucky immediately glanced at the ceiling. “JARVIS, where’s Thor?”

“He is in Dr. Foster’s apartment,” JARVIS replied. Then he added, discreetly, “They have asked not to be disturbed.”

“All right; what about his mom?”

“Queen Frigga is in her apartment,” JARVIS replied after a moment’s pause. “I have taken the liberty to ask if she would see you, and she is amenable.”

Bucky nodded. “Thanks,” he said, and he headed out of the apartment.

He almost bumped into Steve in the hallway. “Hey,” Bucky said.

“Hey,” Steve replied. “Where are you off to?”

“Frigga,” Bucky replied. “I just had a visit from Loki.” He paused, then added. “Accidentally put a hole in the wall. I threw a knife at him but it was just an illusion.”

Steve grimaced. “We’ll fix it,” he said.

“Like you know how to fix it.”

“Sure I do,” Steve replied. “We’ll just get some… uh. Spackle.”

“Do you even know what spackle is?” Bucky demanded as they headed for the elevator.

“No,” Steve admitted. “But I’m pretty sure you use it for holes in walls.” He paused, then said, a little defensively, “Besides, you don’t know either.”

“No, but I know better than to pretend I do,” Bucky replied. He reached up to shove Steve’s shoulder. “Punk.”

His hand went through Steve, and Bucky sighed. “Jesus fuck, you asshole, _get lost._ ”

The illusion of Steve disappeared, and Bucky rubbed his forehead. “It’s like being haunted by an asshole ghost,” he grumbled.

The elevator opened onto the floor where Frigga was staying, and Bucky made his way down the hall to her door. He knocked, and the door swung open.

Frigga smiled at him. “Come in,” she said, stepping back from the door.

Bucky entered and followed Frigga into the main room of the apartment, letting the door swing shut behind him. “So, Loki knows you’re here,” Bucky began without preamble. “If he didn’t before, he does now.”

“That’s all right,” Frigga said. She sat down on one couch and gestured at him to sit on the other, across from her. “I wasn’t placing any weight on the element of surprise.”

“Good thing, because he got me good.” Bucky went on to explain the two encounters he’d just had with Loki, and Frigga nodded. “He’s identified you – rightly or wrongly – as a weak link in the Avengers’ chain. Probably because you weren’t here the last time he was.”

“I’m no weak link,” Bucky replied firmly.

She tilted her head, studying him. “No,” she agreed. “You’re not.”

“I don’t think we have a weak link any more, not when it comes to him. We’re pretty united against him.”

Frigga smiled slightly. “Are you so certain of Thor?” she asked softly.

Bucky opened his mouth, then shut it again without speaking.

Frigga nodded. “My eldest son sees the good in people,” she said. “He refuses to believe that Loki cannot be rehabilitated.”

Bucky nodded. “I’d feel the same way about Steve,” he admitted. Then he said, “What about you, Frigga? What do you think?”

“Oh, I will never believe that Loki is beyond help,” she said. “I’m his mother. But I don’t know if _I_ can be the one to give him the help he needs. That may be a task for another.” She sighed, sitting back. “I fault myself, but also his father. Odin favored Thor heavily, even when Loki tried his hardest to win his father’s approval. Everything he did before coming to Midgard, he did because he wanted Odin to approve of him.”

Bucky, thinking of his own father, nodded. “I get that,” he said softly.

Frigga nodded. “I see that you do,” she said. “So, you see, I don’t think I can be the one to help him. I think he blames me, to an extent, for what his father did.”

Buck frowned. “That’s not very fair.”

“No, it’s not,” Frigga agreed. “But you have to understand something. By our standards, Loki is still a child. Well, an adolescent. Our people don’t necessarily mature as fast as humans do, because we live so much longer.”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it. “Are you telling me Loki's a teenager pitching a fit?”

Frigga smiled grimly. “Unfortunately.”

Bucky sighed. “That just makes everything so much worse.”

“I know,” Frigga replied. “Believe me, I know.”

~*~

When Bucky saw Steve the next time, he made sure to touch him with his braceleted hand before speaking to him. “Sorry,” he said when Steve blinked at him. “I had an encounter with Loki this afternoon and he tried to pretend he was you.”

“Oh, that makes me very uncomfortable,” Steve said. “What happened?”

“Well,” Bucky said, “first he showed up as himself and I threw a knife at him, but it went through him because he was just an illusion. Then he showed up again and tried to pretend he was you, but when I went to touch him my hand went right through him.”

“Creepy,” Steve observed.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, it was.” He shook his head. “What do you want to have for dinner?”

“I was thinking about making chicken kiev,” Steve replied. “Darcy’s been working hard all day and I thought it’d be nice to make her something.”

“That sounds good,” Bucky said. “Come on, let’s go get cooking.”

“So I wonder why he picked on you today,” Steve said as he wrapped boneless chicken breasts around knobs of cold butter.

“Frigga says he might think I’m a weak link.”

“You’re – the hell you are!” Steve exclaimed.

Bucky nodded, peeling potatoes and looking undisturbed. “That’s what I said, and she agreed with me. She thinks the weak link is Thor, because he’s so apt to take his brother’s side and try to reason with him instead of, you know, arresting him. She also thinks Loki needs help. Oh and get this – in Asgardian years, Loki’s just a teenager.”

“Teenager or not, he’s over a thousand years old; he should know better,” Steve said repressively. “Nobody should be tolerating his behavior.”

“Nobody is tolerating it,” Bucky replied. “I’m just passing along information.”

Steve harrumphed, but went back to rolling up chicken. And then, out of the blue, Bucky said, “Did we actually almost get blue carded, or did I make that up?”

Steve dropped the chicken he was holding – fortunately onto the cabinet and not the floor. “Uh,” Steve said. “Yeah, we… yeah, that happened.”

“In the showers, right?” Bucky asked.

“Right,” Steve said, heart hammering in his chest. Bucky sounded like the question was academic to him, but he was good at sounding unaffected sometimes when the issue at hand was of great importance. “Yeah, we… well. After I convinced Phillips not to blue card us, he was going to send you away, but I wouldn’t let him.”

“I remember,” Bucky said. “You said you’d tell everybody.”

Steve nodded, picking up the chicken again. “I sure did.”

“Would you really have done it?”

“Yes,” Steve said with no hesitation. “In a heartbeat.”

“You’re with Darcy now, though,” Bucky said. “And that’s better.”

Steve turned to look at him. “Why’s it better?”

“Because being an invert’s bad news. You can’t get blue carded now but they might throw you out of the Avengers. And people can still jump you on the streets.”

“Buck, they won’t throw me out of the Avengers,” Steve said. “Being gay is okay now.”

“Gay?” Bucky asked.

Steve nodded. “They don’t call it being an invert any more. It’s called being gay, and it’s okay now. Hell, in some states, gay people can get married.”

Bucky gaped at him. “To each other?”

Steve nodded. “New York’s one of them,” he said. “Two fellas or two gals can get married and nobody bats an eye.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Bucky said, turning back to his potatoes. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“So, you know,” Steve said. “You know I… I like both. Fellas and dames.”

“I know,” Bucky replied. “You always have.”

“Well, Darcy said…” And here, Steve found himself stymied by lack of words. “Darcy said…”

“Darcy said what?” Bucky asked, turning to face Steve again. “Spit it out.”

“Darcy said if you were interested, she’s interested.”

Bucky stared at him. “Your girl told you straight out that if I was interested, she’d dump you and be with me? And you’re _okay_ with that?”

“ _No,_ ” Steve said, leaning over and putting his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. “She _said_ she’d be _interested._ In… in _us._ ”

“Us,” Bucky repeated. Then, “Us? Like… _us_?”

“Us,” Steve confirmed.

“Wow,” Bucky said. “Uh. I genuinely don’t know what to say right now. I’m flattered?”

Steve laughed. “Well, at least you’re not pissed.”

“A pretty girl thinks I’m handsome and wants to make time with me? That ain’t nothing to get pissed over, pal,” Bucky replied, laughing. “I’m definitely flattered. But, uh.” He stopped speaking, looking back down at the pan of potatoes. “It’s… it’s kind of an academic issue for me right now, if you get my meaning.”

Steve was still. “Not… really?” he admitted.

Bucky took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Whatever they did to my brain,” he said, “they… they broke it. I think.”

“Oh,” Steve said, suddenly understanding. “So it… like, you want to but it… won’t?”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t want to. At all. Your girl’s pretty, but I don’t… I don’t want to.”

“You keep saying she’s pretty but you ain’t told me I’m pretty,” Steve teased gently.

Bucky laughed. “You’re pretty, too, baby,” he promised Steve, reaching up to pat Steve’s cheek with his metal hand. “But that don’t matter. I can’t… I just… There’s just nothing there.”

“That’s okay, Buck,” Steve said. “We dont… I mean, nobody’s going to… you know, judge you for it.”

“I didn’t figure you would,” Bucky replied. “But it’s hard to talk about.”

Steve nodded. “Well, let’s talk about something else, then,” he said. “How about them Dodgers?”

“ _Fuck_ the Dodgers,” Bucky replied, dropping the last potato into the pan and filling it up with water. “Fucking traitors.”

“Well, we can’t exactly root for the Yankees.”

“I would root for the _Cubs_ before I’d root for the Yankees,” Bucky said firmly.

“The Mets, then?” Steve asked.

“How’re they doing in the standings?”

“Not terrible,” Steve said, dropping the chicken into a hot pan of oil. “Not the best, but pretty good.”

“I guess I could see my way clear to the Mets,” Bucky said. “Oh, what about the girls’ league? And the Negro League?”

“They don’t have ‘em any more,” Steve reported. Baseball’s all integrated and the girls only play softball.”

“They got rid of girls’ baseball?” Bucky asked, outraged. “I loved girls’ baseball!”

“I know you did,” Steve replied, grinning. “The Racine Belles, yeah?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky replied, laughing. “Damn, I hate that. Those girls were good.”

“I saw them play a couple of times when I was on tour with the USO,” Steve reported. “We crossed paths and I got to go to a couple of Rockford Peaches games. One was against the Peoria Redwings and the other was against the Minneapolis Millerettes.”

“Who won?” Bucky wanted to know.

“The Peaches, both times,” Steve reported. He turned the chicken over and started to say something else when the door opened and Darcy walked in.

“Hello, boys,” she greeted them, coming over to kiss Steve. “What smells good?”

“Chicken kiev,” Bucky said. “And I’m making mashed potatoes.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait,” Darcy said. “I’m gonna take a shower real quick, though, okay?”

“Sure,” Steve said. “Plenty of time.”

Darcy wandered back to Steve’s bedroom to take a shower and Bucky looked over at Steve. “Are you gonna tell her, or me?”

“We can tell her together,” Steve said, “or I can tell her tonight, if it’s too embarrassing.”

“It’s gonna be embarrassing either way,” Bucky pointed out. “Might as well rip the bandage off.”

Steve nodded, then turned and gave Bucky a hug. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “And hey, you never know, it might come back. Then if it does, we can revisit the question.”

Bucky laughed softly. “You bet,” he said in a tone that indicated he didn’t think it was going to be an issue.

By the time Darcy came back from her shower, the chicken and potatoes were ready. They sat down together at the table and Darcy gaped briefly at the knife still sticking out of the wall. “Modern art?” she asked, gesturing to it.

Bucky gave a short bark of laughter and explained about his two visits from Loki. Darcy shook her head. “You told Frigga?” she asked, and Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I told her.” He recounted his visit to Frigga’s rooms and what the queen had told him.

“A teenager?” Darcy repeated. “Are you telling me he’s having some kind of emo rebellious phase?”

“I have no idea what an emo is,” Bucky said, “but the rest of it sounds right.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Darcy said simply.

Steve laughed. “Now, Darce, remember what you told me the other day about revenge and murder.”

Darcy paused, then laughed as well. “Right. Best served without.”

“So, uh,” Bucky said. “Something we need to talk about.” And then he looked uncomfortable and stopped talking.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“It’s about that proposition you made,” Steve said. “About… you know.”

“Oh, about a threesome?” Darcy asked, and laughed when they both flinched. “Jeez, guys, we can’t _have_ one if we can’t _talk_ about one.”

“Well, we can’t really have one,” Steve said.

“Oh, okay,” Darcy said. She looked surprised, then disappointed, and then her expression cleared. “No worries, though, right?”

“It ain’t you, doll,” Bucky hastened to tell her. “It’s me. See, I told Steve… I told him… it’s the… it’s what they did to me. With the chair and all. I don’t… I can’t any more.” He paused. “I – what am I trying to say, Steve?”

“There’s no desire there,” Steve clarified.

“Ohhh,” Darcy said. Then her eyes went wide. “Bucky,” she said slowly, “Did they…”

He waited for her to finish, then suddenly realized what she was asking. “Oh, did they rape me? No.” He shook his head. “Not that I don’t think some of them might have tried, but I was a little… feral.” He grinned fiercely. “And I had standing orders to protect myself against assault. Nobody’d risk it.”

Darcy let out a long breath of relief. “That’s good,” she said softly. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

“Me, too,” Steve said, looking a little green. “I never even considered the possibility.”

“It’s not a threat you live with every day,” Darcy pointed out. “Women are closer to that than men are. Not to say that it doesn’t happen to men, but women live with the threat more.”

Bucky nodded. “I can see that,” he said. “You gotta worry every time you go someplace.”

“Exactly,” Darcy said. “So that kind of thing – sexual violence – women tend to be more concerned about it than men.”

“There used to be line-ups,” Steve said slowly, thinking. “Gangs of guys would grab a girl off the street, drag her into an alley.”

“Sometimes a guy, too,” Bucky pointed out. “Usually one of the fairies, or somebody they thought was a fairy.”

Steve nodded. “I never had any trouble, but I think that was just because so many people in the neighborhood knew me. Nobody really messed with me.”

Bucky looked over at Darcy. “The thing about Steve being such a do-gooder all his life is that everybody liked him,” he said. “You knew if Steve saw your sister getting hassled or your grandma needing something carried or done, he’d be right there to help. Everybody liked Steve. Everybody knew he was a stand-up guy. So even though a lot of people knew – or thought, anyway – that he was… what’s the word now? Gay? Yeah. Even though they knew, they didn’t care; Steve was just Steve and everybody kind of watched out for him.”

“You make it sound like I was the neighborhood savior or something,” Steve said, his ears turning red.

“You kinda were,” Bucky replied. “And don’t get all shy about it. You know how people treated you different because they knew you were such a stand-up guy.”

“He still is,” Darcy said softly. “That hasn’t changed a bit.”

Steve’s cheeks turned red. “Stop.” He waved a hand. “I don’t do anything more than anybody else would do.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky said. “Excuse my language, Darce, but that’s a load and you know it.”

“Stop fucking swearing,” Darcy said mildly, and they all laughed.

Bucky reached out and covered Steve’s hand with his. “Everybody loved you, Stevie. Everybody that knew you knew what you stood for, and they knew if you took a stand, you were probably in the right on things. People talked about you, you know. And they always said good things.”

Steve shook his head. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I just… I just always tried to do what was right.”

“And you succeeded,” Bucky replied. “And people noticed that.”

Darcy patted Steve’s other hand. “Don’t be embarrassed,” she told him. “It’s totally okay to admit you’re a decent man.”

“I’m glad you think I am,” he said, looking back and forth between them. “That means a lot to me.”

Bucky squeezed his hand. “Don’t let it go to your head, punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve responded, almost automatically.

Darcy just laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I lifted a bunch of dialog in this section straight from _TWS_. No, I'm not even embarrassed.

For the next three days, Loki made attempts at all of the Avengers, though it wasn’t clear what he was trying to do. He appeared as Clint to Natasha, who saw through him immediately, and then as Natasha to Clint, who had simply made it a habit to touch people before speaking to them. He tried as Bucky to goad Bruce into hulking out, but Bruce was feeling extremely chill at that moment and his attempts were of no use – and this frustrated him so badly that he simply dematerialized rather than continue to pretend to be Bucky. Overall, it seemed that he was doing nothing more than trying to sow discord among the team, but he wasn’t being very good at it. And nobody failed to notice that he was carefully avoiding both Thor and Frigga.

His worst attempt was when he came to Steve in the guise of Darcy and tried to break them up. “I’m just done with you,” he told Steve. “I don’t want to do this any more.”

Steve, who was trying to remain calm and not look totally bewildered, was about to ask what had gone wrong when the door opened and Darcy herself walked into the room. She looked Loki’s illusion up and down and whistled. “Ooh, I have a great ass. Steve, is my actual ass that good?”

“Damn,” Loki said sincerely, and vanished.

Darcy raised an eyebrow at Steve. “You look flummoxed.”

“He was breaking up with me.”

“Didn’t know you were seeing him,” Darcy replied, leaning over to kiss Steve.

He tugged her into his lap. “You know what I mean,” he said. “Pretending to be you. He walked in and just said it was over. ‘I don’t want to do this any more.’ I was about to start asking what happened and whether you’d had a head injury when you came in.”

“Well, I’m glad I got here when I did,” Darcy said. Then she grinned wickedly. “Wanna go celebrate not being broken up?”

~*~

Finally, Tony made a breakthrough. “I’ve got the key,” he said over group dinner. “I’m reverse engineering the launch program now.”

“Excellent!” Darcy said, passing him a dish. “Have some chicken.”

“I’ll tell you what’s interesting about it,” Tony said, serving himself and then passing on the dish. “It keeps reaching for the internet. I’ve got it segregated from the rest of the computers in the tower for now; no telling what kind of homing devices it has attached to it.”

“Good idea,” Clint said. “The last thing we want is whatever’s on there to get loose on the web.”

Tony pointed at him. “Exactly.”

“So how have you got it segregated, exactly?” Bucky asked, curious.

Tony grinned. “I removed its wi-fi receiver.”

“That thing has a wi-fi receiver?” Jane asked. “How?!”

“Not any more,” Tony replied. “It was cobbled on through the phone jack in the back. I disconnected it.”

“Here’s hoping it doesn’t need something off the internet to function,” Bruce said.

“If it does, I’ll figure it out,” Tony said, confident to the point of being cocksure. “Genius, remember?”

“Nobody is likely to forget,” Steve said dryly, “since you never stop reminding us.”

At the end of the table, Frigga laughed softly. Thor grinned widely. “Tony is very proud of his accomplishments,” he said.

“As well he should be,” Frigga replied. “Pride is a good thing. Hubris, not so much.”

“I try not to be hubrid,” Tony said, grinning.

“You don’t try very hard,” Darcy teased, and Tony stuck his tongue out at her. Then Darcy turned to Frigga. “Are you having any luck locating Loki?”

“He remains in the city,” Frigga said, “but he’s trying to hide from me. That makes it a little harder. But I’ll prevail; I know plenty of secrets I haven’t taught him yet.”

“Moms always know tricks the kids don’t know,” Bruce commented, laughing softly. “He’ll be sorry, I’m sure.”

“I think he already is sorry,” Frigga said, her voice quiet. “He’s hiding, and he’s making mischief, but if you notice, he hasn’t _done_ anything. Only appeared and disappeared and taunted a bit.”

“This is ordinary behavior for my brother,” Thor explained. “What he did with the Chitauri… that was not ordinary. Loki makes mischief, not war.”

Bucky frowned. “So what are you saying?” he asked. “You think he was… controlled somehow?”

“Perhaps,” Thor replied, nodding. “Or perhaps merely under duress. I won’t know until I have a chance to talk to him – if he’ll talk to me.”

“He may talk to me,” Frigga said. “It’s been a long time since he and I had a good heart-to-heart talk, and he may finally be open to one.”

“I hope you’re right,” Bruce said.

“As long as he’s not brainwashing or mind controlling people,” Clint said. “I still owe him a punch or two in the mouth for that. People _died_.”

“I’ll hold him for you,” Thor promised.

“Regardless of whether he’s sorry,” Steve said firmly, “he killed eighty people.”

“He will be punished,” Frigga said firmly. Her eyes were hard. “We have no tolerance for murder on Asgard.”

Natasha nodded once. “Good,” she said simply.

~*~

Two days later, days in which Loki continued to badger the Avengers without actually _doing_ anything, Tony broke the code on the old computer. “I’ve got it,” he said to Darcy when she happened to walk into the room at exactly the right time. He grinned maniacally, dancing a little bit. “I got it!”

“I knew you would!” Darcy cheered him, putting aside the papers she was carrying and coming over to give him a fist bump. “You’re gonna call everybody to come see when you boot it up, right?”

“Of course,” Tony replied. “JARVIS! Text everybody. Half an hour, right here. Tell them I’ve got it!”

“Right away, sir,” JARVIS replied.

Thirty seconds later, Tony’s phone started buzzing with texts from the others congratulating him and confirming that they’d be there. Darcy was able to leverage Tony’s good mood into reading and signing some paperwork, and then she hung around, making coffee and watching him walk among the data banks, checking every one of them for any sign of mechanical disturbance. “Don’t want to have one of these things freeze up when I boot the thing,” he said.

“That would _suck_ ,” Darcy agreed. “For all of us.”

The Avengers started drifting into the room a little bit later and when they had all arrived, Tony gleefully made his announcement again. “I’ve worked it out,” he told them. “It needed the internet connection to boot up – absolutely wouldn’t boot up without it. So I built an intranet with enough data to fool it into thinking that it had a wider connection, and _voil_ _à_ _!_ ”

“Excellent, Tony,” Bucky said, just as Natasha praised him with a well-earned “Well done.”

“Well, let’s see it, then,” Steve said, reaching over to clap Tony on the shoulder. “After all that hard work.”

Tony nodded and picked up a USB stick. He stuck it into the drive connected to the computer. “Ta dah!”

Immediately the data banks began to light up, flipping on one at a time around the room, and the tape reels began to spin. The camera at the top of the console rose like the head of a waking sleeper, and a mechanical voice spoke the words that appeared in green on the console’s black screen. _Initiate system?_

Tony leaned over the keyboard and pecked out Y-E-S.

“Shall we play a game?” Natasha asked in a low voice, and everyone chuckled but Steve and Bucky.

Darcy patted their shoulders. “It’s from a movie,” she said. “I’ll show it to you later.”

They both nodded, eyes fixed on the console screen.

The screen began to fill with green static, and the camera at the top of the console turned, as though looking at each individual in turn.

“Stark, Tony,” it said. “Born 1970. Romanoff, Natalia. Born 1984.” It continued down the line, identifying each person who stood in front of it until it reached Thor. “Unidentified input,” it said. “Further information required.” Then it turned to Bucky. “Ahh,” it said. “Barnes, James. Sergeant, US Army. Born 1917. My great achievement.”

“What the fuck?” Bucky blurted.

“Oh, yes, Sergeant. I know you.”

“No way,” Clint said. “It’s some kind of recording.”

“I am not a recording, young man,” the computer replied. “I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I _am_.” And on one of the secondary screens, a black-and-white photo was displayed – one that both Steve and Bucky recognized immediately.

“You know this thing?” Darcy asked, looking up at Steve and then at Bucky.

“Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked with the Red Skull,” Steve explained. “He’s been dead for years.”

“He’s the one who did this to me,” Bucky said, holding up his metal arm.

“First correction,” the Zola-thing said. “I am not German; I am Swiss. And second, look around you. I have never been more alive.”

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it. The Zola-thing wasn’t done talking. “In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however? That was worth saving. On two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain.”

And at that, Tony couldn’t help himself. “Two hundred thousand feet?” he burst out, incredulous.

“That is correct, Mr. Stark,” the Zola-thing said, sounding incredibly proud of itself.

Natasha reached up and clapped a hand over Tony’s mouth to stop him saying anything else.

“How did you get here?” Bucky demanded.

“I was invited!” the computer replied.

“Operation Paperclip,” Natasha said softly. “After World War Two, the US government recruited German scientists with strategic value. Zola must have been one of them.”

“Correct!” said the Zola-thing. “They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own.”

“Your own?” Thor rumbled.

“Hydra died with the Red Skull,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Cut off one head,” Zola replied, “and more shall take its place.”

“No,” Bucky said, shaking his own head. “No, I don’t believe you.”

“Hydra was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new Hydra grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD.” On the secondary monitor, images flashed: scenes of war, scenes of crisis, one shot of a man with what appeared to be a sniper rifle. “For seventy years Hydra has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.”

“No, I don’t believe you,” Clint said. “SHIELD would have stopped you.”

“Accidents will happen,” Zola replied, and now a picture of Howard Stark appeared on the secondary monitor. Zola sounded smug. “Perhaps you did not know, young Mr. Stark. Did you?”

“I knew,” Tony replied, his voice even. “You don’t surprise me. Hydra working inside SHIELD to kill my dad? Yeah, that somehow doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Zola chuckled. “So you see, Mr. Barton, that SHIELD will not and cannot stop us. Hydra has created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, Hydra's new world order will arise.” The camera turned to face Steve. “We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life; a zero sum.”

Steve took a step forward toward the machine, his face a mask of pure rage, but Bucky grabbed him and hauled him back.

“What purification process?” Bruce demanded.

“Ah, Dr. Banner. Wouldn’t you like to know? But you will not, alas. My work is for me alone.”

“Alone is right,” Tony said. “You’re all alone here. Did you notice?”

Zola paused. “What do you mean?”

“Check your internet connection,” Tony said, smirking. “The one you’ve been pinging since we woke you up. See if you can figure out why there’s been no response.” And then he turned. “All right, everybody out.”

“What have you done?!” Zola shouted as they exited the room. “ _What have you done?!_ ”

Tony flipped off the light switch as he left the room, and the door swung shut behind him. “JARVIS, this room is absolutely off limits to anyone without my authorization,” he said. He pointed at Steve. “All we need is for Spangles over here to get mad and break the thing.”

Steve looked only slightly ashamed. “Lost my temper,” he admitted.

“With good reason,” Darcy said, patting his arm.

“Let’s not have a conversation about this right here in the hallway,” Natasha said. “Common room, ten minutes.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Clint said.

~*~

Ten minutes later, they were all gathered in the common room. Steve and Bucky got drinks for everyone from the kitchen and handed them around; Tony offered to make drinks from the wet bar instead but everyone turned him down, so he sighed and accepted the bottle of soda Bucky put on the side table beside his chair.

“Right,” Bucky said. “So. Hydra. That’s… that’s interesting.”

“In retrospect,” Steve said, “I don’t think we should be surprised.”

“Why not?” Darcy asked.

Steve looked around at the Avengers. “Remember on the helicarrier, that first day that we all met, when I told you that Phase Two was SHIELD using the tesseract to make weapons?”

They all nodded. “You’d found them,” Bruce said. “The weapons. You brought one to the lab.”

Steve nodded. “I’d noticed it at the time, but then everything else happened and it slipped my mind, but I remember it now. That gun had a Hydra logo on the side. I remember that I meant to ask Fury where he’d found crates full of Hydra weapons – you know, what cache he’d raided or whatever – but then Clint attacked us.”

“Sorry about that,” Clint muttered.

“Not your fault,” Steve replied. “Nobody blames you.”

“ _I_ blame me,” Clint admitted.

“Truly, it was not your fault,” Thor said softly. “The scepter my brother used was designed somehow to overwhelm the minds and hearts of men. Who knows? It might have overwhelmed even me, had he gotten an opportunity to use it upon me. I don’t know its power, but I know that you are far from the only person whom Loki used in such a way, and nothing you did under his influence is in any way attributable to you.”

“Intellectually, I know that,” Clint told him. “But there’s a huge part of me that still has trouble with it.”

Thor nodded.

“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m a little concerned about the evil genius in the basement,” Bruce said. “Even if he is a diminished evil genius.”

“Diminished how?” Bucky asked.

“ _Two hundred thousand feet_ ,” Tony exclaimed, giggling. “That entire room would fit on a thumb drive with space left over. It’s _barely_ thirteen gigabytes of data. The human brain can hold up to four _terabytes_ , according to the newest calculations.”

“I… don’t know what most of those words mean,” Steve admitted.

“Let’s just say he was probably a lot more fun at parties _before_ he lobotomized himself to fit on a piece of magnetic tape,” Tony explained.

“I’m more concerned about the alleged Hydra inside SHIELD,” Darcy said. “I – is it true?”

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted, looking around at the others.

Natasha shrugged. “I hope not,” she said, “but if it is…”

“If it is,” Clint finished, “then we need to do something about it.”

“Guys,” Steve said tentatively, “Hydra’s not your fight. It’s mine.”

“And you’re our captain,” Bruce replied, looking up at him. “So your fight is our fight.”

“This could get ugly,” Steve warned. “These guys, especially the true believers, they won’t go down easy.”

“Like the Chitauri wasn’t ugly?” Bruce pointed out. “They certainly didn’t go down easy, but we beat them. We can beat this, too.”

Steve nodded. “All right, then,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

Bucky sat down beside Darcy on a couch. “We need some way to verify this,” he said.

“Something that doesn’t involve marching into SHIELD headquarters and yelling _If you hail Hydra I’m gonna beat your ass,_ ” Natasha agreed, smirking at Steve.

“I would not,” Steve replied, mock affronted.

“Well, given that JARVIS still has a back door into SHIELD’s servers,” Tony said, “I guess he and I are going to go back to work.”

“You think you can find it out that way?” Steve asked.

“If it’s in the files, I’ll find it,” Tony replied.

“In the meantime,” Darcy said, “we obviously can’t trust SHIELD. Not anybody.”

“And we still have Loki to contend with,” Clint added, looking sour. “Nobody can say our lives aren’t interesting.”

“Isn’t there some kind of curse involving having an interesting life?” Bucky pointed out. Then he laughed. “Jesus,” he said, looking over at Steve. “Can we ever catch a break?”

“Once this is over, I’m taking the two of you on vacation,” Darcy said. “Somewhere warm. Maybe Florida. Or Cabo.”

“How about a small Caribbean island?” Tony asked.

“Of course you would,” Darcy replied, laughing. “As long as there’s somebody else there to cook and everything.”

“It’s a full-service resort island,” Tony replied. “It’s not even mine; it’s Pepper’s.”

“Let me guess: you got in trouble and bought it for her as an apology gift?” Darcy asked, smirking.

“You know me too well, Lewis,” Tony replied. “That has to stop.”

“What are we actually going to _do_ with the evil genius in the basement?” Natasha asked suddenly.

“What do you mean _do_?” Steve asked.

“I mean… there’s a guy on a computer in Tony’s lab. What are we going to do with him? Leave him alone in there, turned on, with no access to the internet?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tony replied. “Once this is all over we’re going to shut him down and run magnets across all the tape.”

“Can we do that?” Bucky asked. “Ethically, I mean. He’s alive in there.”

“He’s not alive in there,” Tony replied.

“He’s as alive as JARVIS,” Steve pointed out.

“Hardly,” JARVIS interjected. “As Mr. Stark pointed out, the computer calling itself Zola is barely running thirteen gigabytes of information. By contrast, while my data capacity and number of CPUs are classified proprietary information, I can assure you that the amount of data I handle every two milliseconds _far_ outstrips thirteen gigabytes. In fact, considering that the human brain holds only four terabytes of information, I have no qualms about stating unequivocally that I could process the entirety of all of your brains in less than ten minutes.”

There was a long moment of silence before Bucky said, “Right. Magnets it is.”

“Besides, he’s not really alive anyway, is he?” Tony asked. “I don’t think he realizes how much of a slave he actually is.”

“How do you mean?” Steve asked.

“Look at him,” Tony replied. “He’s trapped on reel-to-reel tapes. He goes nowhere and does nothing without someone else’s say-so, and he can’t even wake up and be conscious without somebody plugging in a launch program.”

There was another long pause before Clint said, “I wouldn’t want to live like that.”

“Me, either,” Darcy said. “I’m with Bucky; I vote we put it out of its misery.”

The others murmured their agreement, and Tony gave a decisive nod of his head. “Once we’ve got all of its data processed, it goes,” he said. “But before it goes, we’re going to know everything it knows. I want to know about this purification process it was talking about.”

“Too bad we can’t let Natasha do her magic questioning thing with it,” Darcy mused. “She scares answers out of _everyone._ ”

Natasha laughed. “Thank you for your faith, котенок,” she said. “But you’re right; I’m no use against something with no body and a broken mind.”

“Besides,” Steve added, “Zola was a true believer. He’d honestly die before telling us what we want to know.”

“He doesn’t know it, but he already has,” Thor said quietly. “That thing… it is not a person. It is a ghost, a mere shadow of the person who used to exist. It is an abomination.”

“You’re not wrong, big guy,” Darcy said softly. “It’s a perversion of both life and technology.”

“It won’t be around much longer,” Tony said. “JARVIS and I will uncover its secrets and then it’s magnet time.”

~*~

Frigga didn’t come out of her rooms much, focused as she was on trying to find Loki, but she did come out and share meals with them every day. They got to know her this way, and within a few days of her arrival they were less awed by her royal status and more by her royal bearing and her insightfulness. Darcy found herself one afternoon going by Frigga’s apartment to see her, and found Frigga taking a break from whatever she was doing.

“Can I ask you a question?” Darcy asked, and Frigga smiled.

“I think you just did,” the queen said, and when Darcy rolled her eyes, Frigga laughed. “Yes, Darcy, you may ask me anything you like.”

“I just wondered – is it magic? The… whatever it is you’re doing to find Loki? Is it magic?”

“Well,” Frigga said, “your friend Jane tells me that any technology advanced enough is indistinguishable from magic.” She smiled. “But if you’re asking me about the use of arcane powers, the answer is no. I actually have technological devices that will help me locate the energy signals of Asgardians on this planet.”

“It should be easy to find him, then, right?” Darcy asked. “He’d be the only one.”

“Unfortunately not,” Frigga replied. “The energy signals are inherited, much like one’s DNA. And there are many, _many_ on this planet – even in this city – who are Asgardian in descent.”

Darcy gaped at her. “Really?”

Frigga nodded. “Our people were much more… hmm.” She stopped, clearly considering her words. “Long ago, before the Frost Giants attacked Midgard, our people came here often, and sometimes there were liaisons between humans and Asgardians. In fact, that close contact is one of the reasons why the Frost Giants attacked: they knew that Asgardians were particularly fond of Midgard.”

“Huh,” Darcy said. “So there’s a bunch of people in New York that are descended from Asgardians.”

Frigga nodded. “This is quite a populous city,” she said. “Not one of the  _most_ populous, thankfully, or I should despair of ever succeeding. But there  _are_ a great lot of people, and those people move around quite a lot. It’s difficult sometimes to discern whether I’ve already looked at a certain signature or not.”

Darcy nodded. “And he’s… you said he’s hiding from you.”

Frigga nodded back. “Yes. He’s taking pains to try to hide his energy signature. But I’ll find him. It’s just taking time.”

Darcy paused, and then said slowly, “Am… I descended from Asgardians?”

Frigga laughed. “No, child,” she said. “You and all of your friends here are pure humans.”

Darcy let out a breath she hadn’t know she was holding. “That’s… okay. Okay, thanks for telling me.”

Frigga tilted her head a bit. “Would it be so bad, to know you were part Asgardian?”

“No,” Darcy said, drawing out the word a bit as she thought about it. “No, it wouldn’t be _bad_ , per se. It would be… strange, I think. Something that I’d have to sit with and think about. I mean, you – Asgardians – live for a really long time, so there’s the idea that an ancestor you don’t know from that far back might still be alive and you could meet them? That’s _weird_ , you know?”

“You make an excellent point,” Frigga said. “That would be strange, indeed.”

Darcy smiled. “So, no, it wouldn’t be a  _bad_ thing, just, you know. Odd.”

“At first, I admit, I thought your Jane might be of Asgardian descent,” Frigga confessed. “But she was not.”

“Why Jane?” Darcy asked.

“Her connection to the stars. We are often very attuned to the cosmos, since we live in it much more closely, in a way that Midgardians do not. We travel it, going here and there, both on the Bifrost and off it, and I thought for a time that her attachment to the wider universe was a sign of Asgardian blood. But I was wrong.”

“She’ll be disappointed,” Darcy said, grinning.

“Alas and alack,” Frigga replied, deadpan, and also grinned.

Darcy stood. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it, I guess.”

“Darcy,” Frigga said, “thank you for coming to see me.”

Darcy nodded. “Anytime.” She made a mental note to tell the others to drop by Frigga’s rooms more often and say hello to her; it hadn’t occurred to her that the queen might be lonely, and she hadn’t wanted to interrupt.

She let herself out, then trotted upstairs to look for Steve. When she found him, he was talking to – her, again. She sighed, entering the common room. “Really, Loki?” she asked. “Again?”

Loki shrugged. “It worked well last time. Or would have, if you hadn’t rudely interrupted.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like I have a sixth sense for when people are impersonating me badly,” she replied. “It’s like ESPN or something.”

Both Loki and Steve looked at her like she was speaking gibberish, and she sighed again. “Never mind; it’s a joke. Anyway, Loki, your mother’s looking for you. She’s working very hard to find an Asgardian in a sea of people who have Asgard in their background, so maybe you could cut her some slack and go see her.”

“It’s unlikely,” Loki replied. “Don’t you know she isn’t my mother?”

“Oh, bullshit,” Darcy snapped. “That woman raised you since you were an infant. She’s your mother. We have a saying here on earth: ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the waters of the womb’. It means that the family you choose is more important than the family you were born to. Your mother made a covenant with you the first time she held you, and that means more than any blood relation ever could.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And I think you know that.”

Loki frowned, then looked away from her. “They lied to me,” he said finally.

“Yes, they did,” Steve agreed. “And they shouldn’t have done that.”

“People make mistakes,” Darcy said. “Some mistakes are worse than others. Some mistakes are unforgivable.” She studied Loki for a long minute. “You have to decide if this is unforgivable.”

Loki considered this. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

Steve moved to walk past Loki into the kitchen. “I’m gonna make milkshakes,” he said. “Loki, do you want one?”

Loki paused, turning to face Steve. “I’ve never had one before,” he admitted.

“I’ll make you one.”

Steve went to the freezer, getting out both vanilla and chocolate ice cream, and Darcy clambered up onto one of the kitchen stools.

Loki slid onto the one next to her.

She reached out and touched him with her left hand – the one that wore Thor’s bracelet.

Immediately, the metal of the bracelet expanded. It looked like mercury pouring down her hand and over his, and within a second, the two of them were bound together.

Darcy didn’t smile. Steve paused in his movements even as Loki tried to pull away. “What have you done?!” Loki demanded.

“I caught you,” Darcy replied. “Now stop pulling; that hurts, and I want my milkshake.

“You… what?” Loki asked, stunned into actually stopping.

“I want my milkshake,” Darcy replied. “Stop acting the fool. You think I’m gonna cart you off somewhere before you get to try one?” She looked over at Steve. “I want mine chocolate, please.”

Steve resumed his movements, scooping ice cream into the blender. “Of course you do, doll,” he said. “I would never assume otherwise.” He looked over at Loki, then grabbed two small bowls. He scooped a little vanilla into one and a little chocolate into the other, then put the bowls in front of Loki with a spoon. “Pick a flavor,” he said.

Awkward with his left hand, Loki carefully picked up the spoon and tentatively tried the two flavors. “The brown one,” he said after a moment. His tone was almost petulant.

“That’s chocolate,” Darcy replied. “The white one’s vanilla.”

Loki nodded. “We don’t have that on Asgard. Something similar, but not the same.”

“I think I’d like to visit Asgard someday,” Steve said, placing a milkshake in front of Loki, a straw sticking jauntily out of the glass. 

“I know I would,” Darcy replied. “I’m angling to get Thor to take me.”

“He won’t,” Loki replied. “Our father doesn’t like humans. He sees them as little better than cattle.”

“Hmph.” Darcy harrumphed, watching Steve make the second milkshake. “You know, from everything I’ve heard, don’t take this the wrong way, but your dad sounds like a real piece of work.”

Loki considered this, taking a sip of his milkshake. “Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, he is.” He looked down at the treat in his hand and, almost grudgingly, said, “This is good.”

Darcy smiled. “Steve makes good milkshakes.” Just then, Steve placed a milkshake in front of her, and she took it, saluting him before taking a sip. “Perfect,” she said, grinning at him.

Loki looked back and forth between the two of them. “You’re a little disgusting, do you know that?”

“Everyone says that,” Steve replied. “I don’t see it, personally.”

“You’re too deep into it,” Loki replied.

“Maybe,” Steve agreed, making his own milkshake.

They were quiet as they drank, letting Loki enjoy his treat in peace, and when their glasses were empty, Darcy slid off the chair. “All right,” she said, looking up into Loki’s eyes. “Time to face the music.”

Loki sighed. “And there’s no way I can convince you to let me go? I’ve learned my lesson, you know.”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t,” Darcy replied. “I mean, first of all, you killed eighty people. And second of all…” She held up their joined hands. “I don’t know how these work.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already had to delete some shitty comments, so I'm going to go ahead and acknowledge this. I have at least one commenter, a cowardly anon, who decided to take issue with my characterization of Bucky as a trauma-ace. Yes, that's a choice I made for this fic. It may not accurately reflect _your_ experience of asexuality, but _your_ experience isn't the only one in the world. If you don't like it, feel free to back-button, but keep your shitty comments to yourself.

Darcy delivered Loki to Frigga, who  _did_ know how the cuffs worked and immediately transferred Loki’s captivity from Darcy to herself. “I’m ashamed of you,” she said to Loki, reaching out with her free hand to shake his shoulder firmly. “How could you do this?”

And Loki, to the surprise and discomfort of everyone watching, started tearing up. Darcy looked up at Steve. “Let’s…” She nodded toward the door.

“Yeah, we’re gonna…” Steve said to Frigga, trailing off.

  
Frigga smiled at them. “Thank you,” she said simply. “I’ll see you again before I leave.”

Darcy and Steve made their escape, and then went to Tony’s lab to report that Loki was captured. JARVIS spread the word among the other Avengers as well. Tony grinned when they told him how they’d caught him. “Tricks!” he exclaimed. “How appropriate for a trickster god.”

“I thought so,” Steve replied, looking smug.

“I would never have thought of it,” Darcy admitted. “I would’ve just lunged at him, and then he’d have disappeared. But Steve was all _why don’t you become corporeal and have a chocolate milkshake_ and when he climbed up on the stool beside me I knew he was actually there and _bam._ ”

“If I’d known we could trap him with ice cream byproducts…” Tony said, laughing.

Darcy shook her head. “Honestly, I think part of him wanted to be caught. If he didn’t, why would he keep showing up here?”

“Good point,” Steve said. “I think he was ready to go home and just didn’t want to admit it.”

Just then, Thor entered the room. “JARVIS tells me my brother has been captured.”

They told Thor the story, and Thor roared with laughter, slapping Steve on the back so hard Steve staggered forward, and then sweeping Darcy up into a hug. “Excellent!” he cried. “To know that my brother was taken down by trickery that even he did not expect!”

“That’s what I said,” Tony pointed out. “A fitting triumph for the Avengers.”

“Indeed!” Thor agreed. “You are quite right, Tony.” Then he shook his head. “I am sorry for everything Loki has done. But now I must go to him and my mother.” He paused, then said, “I, uh. Will need those cuff bracelets back.”  


Steve and Tony removed their bracelets and handed them over to Thor, and Thor gave them a small bow before leaving the workshop and heading upstairs to find his mother and brother.

The Asgardians left that same night; Clint and Natasha flew them back out to New Mexico and they called on Heimdall, who sent the bridge for them immediately. Once they were gone, Clint breathed a long sigh of relief. He and Natasha shared a speaking glance, and then they got back in the jet and headed home.

~*~

Darcy woke when Steve started thrashing; she’d learned to get out of the way quickly, or she might take an elbow to the face (again). From a standing position by his side of the bed, she caught one of his hands and called his name. “Steve, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

He pulled his hand out of hers and reached, desperately, and called out, “Bucky! Grab my hand!”

No wonder holding his hand hadn’t worked.

“Steve,” Darcy called. “Steve, wake up!”

Steve called out for Bucky again, and Darcy reached, risking it, to shake his shoulder. “Steve!”

She reared back when he jerked upright, but he was awake, and he looked around the room with wide eyes before focusing on her. He stared at her for a long moment before his body suddenly relaxed and he flopped back onto the pillow. “I’m awake,” he said. Then he sat up again, looking concerned. “I didn’t hit you again, did I?”

“No, I got out of the way in time,” Darcy replied.

He sighed, turning and putting his feet on the floor. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. “Dammit.”

“Hey.” She came to him and knelt down in front of him. “Look at me. It’s okay. It’s totally understandable.”

“But he’s back! I should be better now!”

“The fact that he’s _back_ doesn’t negate the fact that he was _gone_ and you watched him go,” Darcy replied. “That kind of thing stays with you. You might have that nightmare for the rest of your life.”

He looked at her warily. “You’re talking about that PTSD thing, aren’t you?”

She sighed. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Steve, but if you  _don’t_ have PTSD I’m going to think you’re the most miracle of miracles ever to miracle.”

“But I wasn’t… I wasn’t _abused_ or anything.” Steve shook his head. “I didn’t go through anything like what he did.”

“Steve, it’s not Post- _Abuse_ Disorder. It’s Post- _Traumatic Stress_ Disorder. I think losing Bucky, watching him fall like you did, counts as a traumatic stress. For that matter, so does being in war, killing people, risking _being_ killed, all of those things.” She patted his knee. “Come have hot chocolate.”

He gave her a slight, wan smile. “You think hot chocolate makes everything better.”

“Well, it doesn’t make anything worse,” she replied. “Come on. Put on your comfy pants.” She put on her own comfy pants and one of Steve’s t-shirts and headed out to the kitchen.

She was heating the milk when Steve came out of the bedroom, and she smiled at him. “Almost ready.”

He leaned on the pass-through counter and watched her whisk the chocolate into the milk. Once it was mixed thoroughly, she reached for a spice jar on the counter and added cinnamon, then poured the mix into two mugs. She handed one to him. “Here you go,” she said, her voice soft. “Drink that.”

He did, and she could practically see the warmth spread through him with each sip. He slowly relaxed, and after about half the mug, he gave her a look over the rim. “All right, all right, don’t let it go to your head.”

She laughed. “I told you it’d help.”

When they finished their drinks, he took her mug to the kitchen. “You should go back to bed,” he told her as he started the water to wash the mugs. “You have work tomorrow.”

“When you do,” she said. “Unless you just want to be alone.”

He was silent for a minute before putting the mugs into the drying rack and turning off the water. He turned to face her, drying his hands with a dish towel. “Kinda?” he admitted. “I… I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but…”

“I understand,” she told him. “Sometimes you just need to be by yourself. But don’t brood, okay? If you get to feeling bad, come get me.”

He nodded, giving her a little smile. “I will,” he promised.

“Okay.” She rounded the corner into the kitchen to kiss him, then headed back to bed.

Lying there in the dark, Darcy sighed. She wished she could help Steve more, but he was going to have to either give up and get a therapist or fumble through on his own. At least he was trying.

She closed her eyes, trying not to listen for any sounds from him. The walls were mostly soundproof, so she wouldn’t hear anything even if there was anything to hear. She sighed again. Then, quite suddenly, a thought came to her. The VA. Why hadn’t she thought of the VA? They had support groups, didn’t they? Maybe he’d be more open to something like that. She made a mental note to look into that the next day, and then she rolled over onto her side and went to sleep.

In the morning, Steve was lying beside her. The room was still dim thanks to the smart glass that JARVIS kept tinted against the eastern sun, but in the light that was there, he looked drawn and tired. She slid out of bed carefully and moved around the room quietly so as not to wake him. It didn’t help; his super-hearing caught every movement. “You don’t have to sneak for my benefit,” he said when she came out of the bathroom, his voice a little blurry with sleep. “I’m awake.”

“Go back to sleep,” she told him, coming over to smooth a hand over his brow. “You need it.”

“Okay,” he said, and closed his eyes again.

Rather than run the hair dryer, Darcy simply braided her wet hair back from her face. She dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, and then slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

Bucky was in the living room when she came out, and he glanced up at her with a slight smile. “Rough night?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Steve was still up when I got up,” he said. “Wouldn’t talk about it, but I figured it must be the dreams; he was looking a little hollow.”

“Yeah, he, uh.” Darcy considered how much to say without breaking Steve’s trust or violating his privacy. “He has a couple of recurring nightmares.”

“The train?” Bucky asked, knowingly. “It’s not a surprise. I do, too.”

Darcy nodded. “Yeah,” she admitted.

“Tony says I need a psychiatrist,” Bucky said as Darcy headed into the kitchen to make herself a smoothie for breakfast. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Darcy disagreed. “A therapist, maybe. One that specializes in trauma, especially military trauma.”

“You think we could find one?”

“In this city?” Darcy laughed. “We can find _anything_ in this city.”

“Good point,” Bucky replied. Then he said, after a moment’s thought, “Do you think it’ll help?”

“Yes,” Darcy said unequivocally. When he looked at her in surprise, she shrugged. “I’ve been to therapy. I grew up in a bad household. Therapy helps. You’d be surprised how nice it is to talk to somebody who listens and doesn’t judge. And they give you tips on how to handle the dreams and bad memories when they come up, the emotions that are hard to deal with.”

Bucky nodded. “I think I might want to try that,” he said after another moment.

Darcy smiled. “I’ll see if I can find you someone. In the meantime, I was thinking about looking into the VA; I think they have support groups.”

“What’s a VA?” Bucky asked.

Darcy blinked, pouring her smoothie and then putting the blender cup in the sink. “The Veteran’s Administration,” she said. “It must be newer than I thought.” She pulled her phone out to google it, and then said in surprise, “Wow, it was just founded in 1989.”

“Well, what _is_ it?” Bucky asked again.

“Oh, sorry. It’s a government program that offers services exclusively to veterans. They have all kinds of stuff. Hospitals, retirement homes, stuff like that but I think they also have, like, support groups for soldiers and stuff, too.”

“Oh, okay,” Bucky said. “They had veterans’ hospitals and stuff like that when we were young, too, but I don’t think they called it the VA; it was just, you know, the veterans’ hospital.”

Darcy nodded. “Makes sense. The VA now encompasses tons and tons of services – you should google it.”

“I will,” Bucky replied. “And I’ll talk to Steve about it, too.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It might come easier from me than from you.”

Darcy thought about this for a second, drinking her smoothie, and nodded. “I can see that.”

He smiled at her. “You’re a pretty amazing dame, doll,” he said, coming into the kitchen for his own breakfast. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he passed her. “Makes me wish I still had that want, you know?”

“I… well. I don’t _know_ ,” she said, “but I get what you’re saying.” She paused, glancing at him, and finished her smoothie, then went and rinsed the glass out before sticking it in the dishwasher. “While you’re googling,” she said carefully, “look up the word _asexual_.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I will.”

She smiled, tiptoed to kiss his cheek, and took off to begin her day.

~*~

Bucky did the googling Darcy told him about, beginning with the VA. Once he understood what it was and what they offered, he found a support group – just the thing she’d suggested – which met that very afternoon. He made up his mind to check the thing out and drag Steve along.

Once he was done with that, he considered that word she’d offered him. Something about the way she’d said it told him it was important, and he approached it like he would a piece of unexploded ordnance. He typed it into the Google search bar and waited for the returns.

  
The first thing on the page was taken from an article from a medical news site; it read, “ _Asexuality describes a lack of sexual attraction. Asexual people may experience romantic attraction, but they do not feel the urge to act on these feelings sexually. Asexuality is a sexual orientation, like being gay or straight. It is different from celibacy or abstinence._ ” Bucky considered this definition. Lack of sexual attraction: that certainly described him. Romantic attraction? Could you even  _have_ one without the other? Well, apparently you could, according to this article. 

He kept reading. There was another medical article that he skimmed past, and then there was something called The Trevor Project. The tiny blurb underneath that title caught his eye, for it included four important words:  “ _Love doesn't equal sex._ ”

“Well, of course it doesn’t,” he said out loud to himself, realizing the truth of those words.

“What doesn’t?” Steve asked, coming out of the bedroom, running his hand across his short hair.

“Love doesn’t equal sex,” Bucky replied, clicking on the Trevor Project link. He glanced up at Steve, who was looking at him in confusion. “Darcy told me to look up something about being asexual,” he said. “And it makes sense to me. It’s about people who don’t have sexual attraction.”

“Like you,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded. “Like me. And this one page said that asexual people still sometimes have romantic attraction, which didn’t make sense to me at first, but this other page says love doesn’t equal sex, and I realized it doesn’t.”

“Course it doesn’t,” Steve replied. “If it did, we’d be in trouble when we weren’t in bed.”

Bucky laughed softly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, that’d be weird.”

Steve wandered into the kitchen and started coffee, then got himself a bowl of cereal. “What’s on the agenda for today?” he asked, scooping Fruity Pebbles into his mouth.

“Me and you are going out this afternoon,” Bucky said. “Darcy told me about this place called the VA and they have – ”

“Buck,” Steve interrupted him, “you’re forgetting something.”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked, looking up at him, and then his face fell. “Oh, right. Can’t go out.”

“Not yet,” Steve agreed. “As soon as we get this Hydra mess dealt with…”

“Yeah.” Bucky gave him a sour look. “The sooner, the better. I wanna check this place out.”

“What have they got that you want to see so bad?” Steve wanted to know.

Bucky studied him. “Support groups,” he said finally, enunciating the words carefully like they were unfamiliar. “I looked it up. It’s basically like a bunch of people getting together and helping each other with their problems.”

“Aw, Buck,” Steve began, but stopped when Bucky pointed a finger at him.

“This ain’t optional, punk,” Bucky said. “We’re going. At least once. Darcy says it’ll be good for us.”

“Oh, well, if _Darcy_ said,” Steve replied, a little sarcastic.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure you wanna talk about your girl that way?”

Steve sighed, leaning back against the wall. “It’s just… I think… sometimes I think she’s trying to  _fix_ me.”

“She’s trying to _help_ , you pinhead,” Bucky replied. “But if it bothers you, tell her to stop.”

“Easier said than done,” Steve said. “And I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Then don’t be an asshole when you tell her,” Bucky said. 

Steve laughed. “Again, easier said than done.”

Bucky shook his head at Steve. “You’re kind of an idiot when it comes to dames, you know?”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Steve replied. He finished his cereal and put the bowl in the dishwasher, then came around into the living room. “What else are you learning all about today?”

“That’s it so far,” Bucky replied. “Just gonna read some more about being asexual. It kinda sounds like me.”

Steve nodded. “Wanna go down to the gym later and spar?”

“Beat your ass, you mean? Sure.” Bucky grinned.

Steve gave him the finger, then headed back into his bedroom for a shower. Bucky, laughing, went back to reading the page he’d opened up on the computer.

~*~

Darcy ordered dinner in that night, summoning everyone to the common room for a veritable feast of Italian food (Natasha’s request). When they were all gathered around the table, Bucky said to Tony, “So, how much longer do you think we have to wait on this Hydra business? Because I’m kinda tired of being cooped up inside.”

Tony gasped, putting on an affronted expression. “What do they have outside that I don’t have in here? I ask you.”

“They have _outside_ outside,” Bucky replied. 

“Outside has bugs,” Tony replied. “It’s not worth it.”

“Outside has sunshine,” Bucky replied. “And trees, and street hot dogs.”

“Okay, he has a point about the hot dogs,” Clint said around a mouthful of spaghetti.

“You’re a savage,” Natasha commented. “Swallow before you speak.”

He turned toward her and she held up a finger. “I swear to whatever debased gods you believe in that if you open your mouth and show me chewed food I will end you.”

He held very still for a moment and then swallowed hard. “Never mind.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said and went back to her ravioli.

Darcy tried hard not to laugh.

“Seriously, though,” Tony said, “I don’t think it’ll be long. It’s just a matter of picking through the data and figuring out what’s prehistoric AI and what’s actual useful information.”

“Well, the sooner the better,” Bucky said. “I heard the Strand is still open and I want books.” 

“You want books? You want _books_?!” Tony exclaimed. “I gave you a StarkPad with access to every digital library in existence!”

“I know you did,” Bucky replied patiently. “I want _books._ ”

“You’re a Luddite,” Tony cried, looking hopeless. “I’m surrounded by Luddites.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Clint protested. “Most of us love your tech.”

“All of us love your tech,” Steve said. “But there’s something about a physical book.”

“It’s the smell,” Darcy said. Then, with the air of one reciting a quote, she said, “Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower, or a whiff of smoke can bring up experiences long forgotten. Books smell musty and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer has no texture, no context. It’s there and then it’s gone. If it’s to last, then the getting of knowledge should be tangible. It should be… smelly.”

“Did… you just quote that entire Giles speech from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ at us?” Jane asked, boggled.

“Yes,” Darcy replied, looking pleased. “Yes, I did. And I’m so proud of you for recognizing it.”

“How could I not recognize it?” Jane asked. “You made me watch that entire show, _and_ you recited it in a British accent. I could spot your Giles impersonation from a mile away.”

Darcy started, giving Jane a face like a wounded fawn. “Are you suggesting I have a bad Giles impersonation?”

“Oh, I wasn’t _suggesting_ it,” Jane replied, smirking hard.

“Meanie!” Darcy accused.

Jane laughed. “Yep!”

“What’s a Giles?” Bucky asked Jane.

“He’s a character on this terrible show Darcy made me watch in New Mexico…”

Darcy gasped. “You take that back!”

“I will not. I hated that show.” Jane pointed a finger at her. “It’s _Buffy the Vampire_ _ **Slayer**_ , not _Buffy the Vampire_ _ **Fu**_ –”

“Hey!” Darcy exclaimed, interrupting her. “Don’t you dare!”

“It’s true!”

“Okay!” Steve interrupted as it looked like the friendly teasing was about to go over the line. “Let’s talk about something else! Some movie about playing a game that Natasha quoted the other day?”

“Oh!” Jane exclaimed, diverted. “ _WarGames_!”

“Matthew Broderick!” Darcy agreed.

“It’s about a kid in the 1980s who accidentally starts playing a game of Global Thermonuclear War with a NORAD supercomputer,” Bruce explained. “Very tense.”

“I think we should watch that,” said Bucky, who actually thought no such thing, but was as eager as Steve to make sure that the conversation didn’t return to the vampire show.

“After dinner,” Natasha said. She was still quietly working on her ravioli. “This food is too good to interrupt.”

“After dinner,” Bucky agreed, grinning at her across the table. He helped himself to a thick slice of garlic bread. “This food _is_ really good. Who picked it?”

“I did,” Natasha replied.

“Excellent choice,” Bucky complimented her. “You should decide dinner more often.”

“Next time, we’ll have Russian food,” she promised him.

“Borscht and shashlik,” he agreed.

Natasha nodded. “Kasha and pelmeni.”

“I’m literally shoving lasagna into my food hole at this very moment and you guys are making me hungry,” Clint complained.

Bucky laughed. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Natasha said, grinning.

They managed to finish dinner without any more fights breaking out, and everyone helped clean up before they all retired to the theater room. JARVIS already had the title card of the movie projected on the wall when they got there, and Tony patted the wall proudly. “Thank you, JARVIS.”

“You’re quite welcome, sir,” JARVIS replied.

~*~

Just as the movie was ending, Jane’s phone rang. She pulled it out and squinted at the screen. “Unknown number,” she said. “Should I answer it?”

“We can fuck with whoever’s on the other end,” Darcy suggested from her position with her head in Steve’s lap and her feet in Bucky’s.

“That’s what I was going to say,” Clint agreed.

Jane tapped the green button and answered on speaker. “Hello.”

“Jane!” Thor’s voice boomed out of the phone. “Can you hear me?”

“Don’t yell,” she replied. “I can hear you perfectly. How are you calling me from Asgard? Don’t tell me Verizon’s there already.”

Thor laughed. “No, no, not at all. I simply took the liberty, while I was there, of pairing your telephone with a communications device one of my mother’s friends put together to try and bridge the gap. And it works!”

“Yes, it does!” Jane exclaimed. “This is so exciting! The pure potential for interstellar communication alone – ”

Thor laughed again. “I meant more along the lines of being able to talk to you when I must be away,” he said gently.

“Oh!” Jane said. Then she looked around at the others, who were making no attempt to hide that they were listening. She took the phone off speaker, waved goodbye, and left the room.

The others laughed as she went. “Oh man,” Darcy said, sitting up and stretching. “I’m so glad he thought to do that. She’ll be  _so_ much easier to deal with if she’s at least talking to him on the regular.”

“As much as I love Jane, that is a true statement,” Natasha replied.

“On the other hand, she’ll talk about him more,” Darcy mused, and Bucky gave her a gentle elbow in the side. Darcy laughed. “No, I’m just joking. I’m glad she can talk to him.” She stood up, stretched again, and reached out a hand each to Bucky and Steve. “Come on, boys, it’s bedtime.”

They left, each man tossing an arm around her shoulders as they went, calling “good night” to the others on their way out the door. Once it had closed behind them, Clint looked over at Tony. “Are they doing what I think they’re doing?”

“I have no idea and I don’t think I want to know,” Tony replied. “I’m going to mind my own business for once.”

“I’ll make sure to tell Pepper when she gets back from Japan,” Natasha said. “She’ll be proud of you.”

“No need; I’m mostly just scared of what Lewis would do if she found out I set an over/under on whether or not the three of them are banging.”

Natasha sighed. “I was so close to being glad you were finally maturing.”

“Yeah, hoping for that is a waste of energy,” Bruce told her.

Natasha nodded glumly. “So I’m beginning to see.” She stood and stretched as well. “I’m done. Good night.”

“Me, too,” Clint agreed.

“Yeah, I think I’ve had all this fun I can take,” Bruce said, also standing up. “JARVIS, don’t let Tony stay in the lab too late, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, Dr. Banner,” JARVIS replied, “but I am unfortunately unable to physically drag him out.”

“Oh, screw both of you,” Tony said mildly. “I’m going to my _apartment_ to call my _girlfriend._ ”

Bruce smiled. “Do that. Then get some sleep afterward.”

“I plan to,” Tony said loftily, nose in the air.

Bruce, grinning, slapped his shoulder warmly, then headed off in the direction of the front elevator.

Tony went the other way, to the back elevator, and headed down to the penthouse he shared with his beloved.

Pepper was just finishing lunch with Rumiko Fujikawa when Tony called; it was tomorrow in Tokyo, and she’d been busy at a green energy conference all morning. “I really wish you’d fly out here for this,” she told him. “There’s going to be a roundtable discussion tomorrow that you could really make a splash at if you talked about the arc reactor.”

Tony thought about it. “I guess I could,” he said after a moment. “What time?”

She told him, and he did the time conversions in his head. “All right,” he said finally. “I’ll just sleep on the jet.”

“Excellent,” Pepper said, sounding really pleased. “I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Me, too,” Tony said, heading into the bedroom to get his suitcase out of the second closet. “Should I wear a suit and tie or…”

“If you show up in pajama pants and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt I will kill you and Rumiko will help me hide your body,” Pepper replied calmly.

“I totally will,” Rumiko said from somewhere off to the side. “I know just the place.”

  
Tony laughed. “I meant just something more casual, but it’s fine, I’ll wear a suit.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said. “I’ve got to go; there’s about to be a panel on windmills and I can see Will Bentley from Roxxon heading my direction. I need to avoid him.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Tony assured her. “Love you.”

With a smile in her voice she replied, “Love you, too.”

They hung up, and Tony set about filling his suitcase.

“Sir,” JARVIS asked in his usual placid tone, “are you sure it’s wise to go to Tokyo with our Zola project in its current state?”

“I’ll keep my phone on me,” Tony replied. “The absolute millisecond anything happens, you tell me.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS replied.

“And you know how to disconnect if you need to,” Tony continued.

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS repeated.

“Then what’s your worry?” Tony asked.

“Hydra, sir,” JARVIS replied. “Frankly, sir, if I’m not overstepping, I feel as though it would behoove all the Avengers, not just Sergeant Barnes, to remain inside the building until we have more information.”

“You make an excellent point,” Tony said, folding a pair of jeans and tucking them into the suitcase.

“And yet you continue packing,” JARVIS noted.

“I do,” Tony agreed. “I’m thinking of bringing the suitcase armor with me.”

“You haven’t finished it, sir,” JARVIS pointed out.

Tony shrugged. “It’s close enough. It doesn’t pinch anywhere, anyway.”

“Flight is nonfunctional on the suitcase armor.”

“That’s okay,” Tony replied. “The repulsors work. I can shoot and hover.”

“I feel, sir, that this is a very bad idea.”

“JARVIS, you’re like a mother hen sometimes. It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so, sir,” JARVIS said and fell silent.

Tony shook his head and continued packing. When he was done, he left a message with JARVIS to be relayed to the others in the morning:  _Gone to Tokyo to meet up with Pepper; be back in a couple of days. Will bring presents._ Then he called night security – a guy called Jackson who was so good that Happy  _almost_ trusted him – to bring a car around. 

They were followed to Teterboro. Tony was actually surprised – he hadn’t thought anyone would show any interest in himself, given that he wasn’t Bucky Barnes, but there was no avoiding the fact, as Jackson advised him, that they were in fact being followed by a black government-issue Ford sedan.

Fortunately there was a lot of security between the public entrance at Teterboro and the hangar where Stark Industries kept their jets, so by the time Tony had to actually leave the car, the sedan was nowhere to be seen. He was doubly safe because Jackson had pulled the car all the way inside the hangar before letting him out, so there was no room for a distance shot, but it was still unnerving.

Once on the plane, Tony pulled out his phone and called JARVIS. “I apologize,” he said.

“I did tell you, sir, that I thought this was a bad idea.”

“Yes, you did,” Tony agreed. “And I did not listen.”

“Shall I send the Avengers to accompany you, sir?”

“No, I have Jackson and the plane’s going to be taking off in about twenty minutes. I just wanted to tender my apology.”

“Apology accepted, sir,” JARVIS replied. 


	9. Chapter 9

Tony made it back from Tokyo with, fortunately, no disturbances, but the incident upset everyone – especially Pepper. “Deal with it,” she said to the Avengers on the following morning at breakfast. “I don’t honestly care how.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve said to her, nodding once in acknowledgement of the order. He turned to Tony. “How much longer before we have something out of Zola?”

“I’m hopeful we’ll be there today,” he said. “JARVIS?”

“Within the next few hours,” JARVIS replied. “It has noticed what I’m doing and is trying to stop me, but I have far more computing power than it does and I am confident that whatever it is currently trying to hide will be exposed quite soon.”

“All right,” Steve said. “Thank you, JARVIS. If there was a way to make Tony give you a raise, I’d do it.”

“If only that could happen, Captain,” JARVIS replied with a droll tone to his voice.

Everyone at the table – even Pepper – laughed at that. Then Pepper stood. “I don’t mean to be a certain way about things,” she said to the room at large. “But this idea of being followed around and being in constant danger from something we don’t know anything about has got me a little nervous.”

“It’s understandable, Ms. Potts,” Bucky said, giving her his best smile. “We’ll do our best to make sure this is taken care of right away.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said. “I don’t like having to worry about my people.”

Natasha looked up at her. “If it helps at all, we don’t think you’re in any danger.”

“It doesn’t,” Pepper replied. “Because I’m at just as much risk of kidnap and ransom as Jane or Darcy. Possibly more, since I’m high-value both as Tony’s girlfriend _and_ as SI’s CEO.”

Darcy sat back in her chair. “I hadn’t thought about that,” she admitted. “About you being high value. I – In my mind, you know, Stark Industries and the Avengers are separate.”

“On paper they are, too,” Pepper replied. “At least for now. But with Tony operating as _de facto_ second in command of the Avengers _and_ still being both owner and head of R&D, there’s a lot more overlap than I – or SHIELD, for that matter – would like.”

“You’ve talked to SHIELD about this?” Clint asked, sitting up abruptly.

“Well, yes,” Pepper replied. “I’ve talked to Jasper Sitwell about it, of course. Isn’t he Phil Coulson’s replacement?”

“Yeah, but… why would he care what Tony does on his own time? That seems strange to me.”

Pepper tilted her head a little bit, clearly recalling things to mind. “Well, he said he was worried that Tony’s involvement with the Avengers would be bad PR for SI. Or that it might reflect badly on SI’s market shares or whatever. Those are his exact words: ‘market shares or whatever’. I told him it was fine – Tony knows how to compartmentalize, sometimes to his personal detriment. And then he asked me some questions about Howard’s work and we got off the subject.”

“He wanted to know about Dad?” Tony demanded. “What did he want to know about?”

Pepper looked surprised. “He asked about some projects that were classified at the time. I didn’t have any information on them in the system, so I told him that I assume they’re in the old archive files.”

“Where would those be?” Darcy asked, leaning forward with her elbows on the table.

“Either downstairs in the lower archives on 45 or possibly in one of Howard’s other labs. He had several.”

“Like the one at Lehigh?” Bruce asked.

Pepper thought about that. “Now that you mention it… he may have said something about Lehigh.”

They all looked at each other. “Sitwell’s in on it.” Natasha was the first to speak.

“That shiny headed little _asshole_ is Hydra,” Clint exploded. “I’m gonna put an arrow between his eyes myself.”

“Everybody relax,” Bucky said. “We’re not killing anybody until we’re sure we’ve gotten all the intel we can out of them. _Then_ we kill them.”

“Darce,” Steve added, “I know you say revenge is a dish best served without murder, but in this case I think I’m gonna have to disagree.”

“Sitwell’s too low-level,” Darcy disagreed. “He’s only, what, level seven?”

“Five,” Clint corrected her. “Probably six if he was actually promoted to Coulson’s position as opposed to just taking over some of his responsibilities.”

“Right,” Darcy said, nodding. “We’ll assume six. Either way, he’s low level. We’re looking for people much higher up. Sitwell’s a lackey.”

“You think he’s just a foot soldier?” Bucky asked.

Darcy shook her head. “No, those are going to be your levels one, two, three. Sitwell’s not a fighter, he’s a middle manager. And he’s not very good at it, either; he’s the kind of guy who fails upward until he finally lands on a cushion and sticks.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense.”

“Makes me wonder why he was so desperate to come here while Frigga was here,” Steve said thoughtfully.

“I doubt Hydra had much to do with that,” Bruce said.

Steve shook his head. “The tesseract is Asgardian tech, remember? And Hydra – well, under the Red Skull – they used the tesseract to build weapons, tanks, whatever they could think of.”

“You think he wanted to try and get a trip to Asgard?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know what he was angling for. A tech treaty of some kind, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Natasha said.

Clint nodded. “It sounds right,” he agreed. “Sitwell would be just the kind of guy to try and take advantage of a situation like that.”

“So if Sitwell’s the middle manager, who’s the big boss?” Tony wondered.

Pepper patted his shoulder. “Maybe your Zola thing will tell you,” she said. “In the meantime, I have to get downstairs.”

  
Tony stood up and kissed her quickly. “Have a good day,” he said.

She smiled. “That’s the plan.”

~*~

JARVIS blared his success onto everyone’s phones at 11:48 a.m.  _Zola code broken,_ he told them.  _Please report to floor 79._

Within just a few minutes, everyone had assembled in Tony’s workshop. In the center of the room, a huge diagram spun in one of JARVIS’s hologram builders. “What is that?” Darcy asked, approaching it. “Is that an aircraft carrier?”

“It’s a helicarrier,” Tony told her. 

“Oh, I’ve heard about those,” Darcy said. “I didn’t realize anyone had them yet.”

“SHIELD bought the first two that were built,” Clint told her. “They’re supposed to be top secret.”

“Oh, they are,” Tony said. “As is this.” He pointed at an exploded diagram. “This is a helicarrier engine. It’s repulsor powered.”

“Like your things on your suit?” Bucky asked. “I didn’t know other people had those. I thought you said you invented them.”

“I did, and they don’t,” Tony replied. “This design is a prototype. I gave it to Nick Fury about four months ago.”

“Just after the Chitauri invasion,” Steve said, nodding. “A new kind of engine that’s not run on some form of electricity.” He gave Tony a half-smile when Tony glared at him.

“Exactly,” Tony said, flicking the hologram. The little diagram spun. “So how did my repulsors, _my_ _designs_ , get inside that little piece of shit computer down there in a nasty, dusty basement in Lehigh?”

“Somebody put it there,” Natasha said. “Somebody gave that design to Zola to do something with.”

“And I know exactly what,” Tony said, nodding. He swiped at the hologram, and it obligingly disappeared to the left, replaced by another one. This one was a design of the helicarrier’s weaponry. 

Bruce took a step forward. “That’s… that’s very small caliber,” he said after a moment. “I’m sure that’s the wrong word for it, but that’s all I can think of.”

“It’s anti-material,” Tony replied. “They’re for targeting people.”

Darcy felt herself go pale. “People?”

“People,” Tony replied. “JARVIS, fill us in on Project Insight.”

“Project Insight,” JARVIS said obligingly, “is a program intended to develop a defensive super-weapon. The goal is to build three helicarriers with the given specifications and launch them into perpetual suborbital flight using the repulsor-powered engines developed by Mr. Stark. The helicarriers will be synchronized using a satellite-based targeting system that can identify individuals based on their DNA. They are also capable of eliminating up to one thousand hostile individuals per minute.”

“A thousand a _minute_?” Bucky boggled. “Jesus, Steve, imagine what we coulda done with something like that in ‘45.”

“I’m imagining what could be done with it now,” Steve replied, looking grim. “Who determines the targets?”

“Unknown,” JARVIS replied. “This is a project of the World Security Council, so one assumes that it would be nominally under WSC control.”

“Nominally?” Clint asked.

“Well,” JARVIS said, “it _is_ sitting on a Hydra computer.”

There was a very long silence before Bruce, looking a bit green around the gills, said, “How long before these things are ready to lift off?”

“According to what I can tell,” Tony replied, “about two years.”

“So we have time to stop it,” Darcy said softly.

Bucky studied the diagram of the weaponry. “How does it decide who to kill?” he asked.

“I’m glad you asked, Tin Man,” Tony said, sweeping the diagrams away and replacing them with a wall of what looked like utter gibberish. “This is a targeting algorithm,” he said. “Or at least the beginnings of one. And from what I can tell, it’s all to the good that we took Zola off the internet, because that’s exactly what it was using to plug data into this algorithm.”

“How’s that work?” Steve asked.

“It’s got access to everything,” Tony said. “Or at least, it _wants_ access to everything. Bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, it wants _everything_ regarding its targets. It puts the information it gets together, and then it spits out a response, and if it doesn’t like the response it gets…” He held out a hand, his fingers shaping a gun, and pointed it at Bruce, bending his thumb. “Pow.”

~*~

“Tell me how the algorithm works,” Darcy said, staring at Zola’s green-and-black face on the monitor. They’d sent her in by herself, wondering if Zola would respond better to a non-Avenger.

“Lewis, Darcy Marie,” Zola said. As he spoke, Darcy’s school pictures began to flash on his secondary screen. “Born June 24, 1989, Reno, Nevada. Attended St. Mary’s Catholic School 1994 to 2007; Harvard University from 2007 to 2011.” Now he started flipping through her public Facebook photos. “Served one internship with the Democratic National Committee, one with Human Rights Watch, one with Dr. Jane Foster. Graduated _summa cum laude_. SHIELD agent level two, liaison to Asgardian delegations.” The secondary screen went blank.

“You missed the part where I played a sheep in the third grade Christmas play,” Darcy replied.

“I shall commit it to memory,” Zola replied, and a picture of a sheep appeared on the secondary monitor.

Darcy almost laughed. “So tell me what the algorithm does.”

“Likely to be a liberal or progressive voter,” Zola said. “Likely donates sums of money to liberal or progressive charitable causes. Likely to march for various causes. Unlikely to take part in violent street demonstrations.”

“These things are true,” Darcy agreed. “And the algorithm…”

“I have shown you,” Zola replied. “My algorithm gives me all the information I need in order to determine if you are an enemy of Hydra.”

“I see,” Darcy said. “And so you’re just going to kill everyone who won’t hail Hydra?”

“Not everyone,” Zola replied. “But enough.”

“I see,” Darcy said. “And you’re going to do it using those helicarrier plans, huh?”

“Yes,” it answered, sounding proud. “And I am afraid, Miss Lewis, that there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Oh, there’s at least one thing,” Darcy said. “Only, it’s not going to be me that does it.” She waved at the door, which opened. “It worked,” she said.

“Oh, good,” Bucky said, entering the room. “It bought everything?”

“Everything.” She looked over at Tony, who came behind Bucky. “Nice job,” she said. “I almost believed it all myself.”

Tony grinned. “I told you I could gin up a fake Facebook for you.”

Zola’s camera was moving back and forth as the Avengers entered the room, and finally it demanded, “What is happening?”

“Well, for one thing, we figured out that when you’re fed fake info, you’re no use to anybody; you can’t tell the difference between a lie on a resume and a real LinkedIn account.” Darcy smirked. “I didn’t go to St. Mary’s _or_ to Harvard; I went to public school and Culver University. I also didn’t have those fancy internships, except the one with Jane. That was all fed to you.”

“Fed to… what?!” Zola demanded.

“I made you a fake internet,” Tony explained. “I wanted to see how you’d do what you did. And you did a _fabulous_ job showing us just exactly how to replicate the way your algorithm works. Thank you for being so cooperative, Dr. Zola.”

“And now,” Bucky said, “I’m going to take over.”

“Ah, my creation,” Zola said, and let out an electronic laugh. “Do you think to hurt me in revenge? I cannot be hurt!”

“Sure you can,” Bucky replied, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a palm-sized canister about two inches deep and held it up. “Maybe you know what this is.”

“No!” Zola exclaimed, abject fear in its voice now. “No, you need me!”

“Oh, do we?” Natasha asked, sounding bored. She checked her nails, buffing them against her shirt, then looked up at the monitor. “What for?”

“I – I can tell you secrets! Hydra secrets!”

“Who’s the new Supreme Hydra?” Steve asked.

Zola wasted no time. “Alexander Pierce,” it said.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Clint said softly. “That kind of information deserves a stay of execution.”

“Really?” Bucky asked.

Clint looked from the Zola-thing to Bucky and then back again. Then he laughed. “Nah. This thing needs to die.”

“No!” Zola screeched, but it didn’t matter. Bucky was moving toward the first of the reel-to-reel tape machines with the magnet outstretched. He held it up to the tape, which continued to spin.

Zola screamed.

Darcy ducked her head, sticking her fingers into her ears. Steve reached over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You should go,” he said. “You don’t want to see this.”

“I can stay,” she said. “I can stay for Bucky.”

Bucky crossed the room to her and took her hand in his. “No, doll,” he said. “Don’t stay for me. Go on. I don’t want you to have to see or hear this. This ain’t for you.”

She looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Go on.”

She nodded, slipping out through the door. As it fell closed behind her, she heard Zola start to scream again, but even as she cringed away from the sound, the door shut and the hall went silent.

~*~

Darcy was curled up on the sofa when Steve and Bucky came in that night. She was watching Looney Tunes, and there was an empty mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table. Steve dropped onto the couch and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry you had to see any of that,” he said softly. “If I’d had any idea it would scream like that…”

“It’s not your fault, either of you,” Darcy replied. “None of us knew it would do that.”

Bucky reached over the back of the couch and rubbed her shoulders. “Still, we feel bad about it. You shouldn’t have to have those memories.”

“You forget,” she said, then tilted her head back to look at Bucky. “Or maybe you never knew. I was there in New Mexico when Thor’s brother sent the Destroyer and decimated an entire small town. People died then, too.”

“Yeah, but this is… different.”

“A little bit,” Darcy admitted. “You could have turned him off first.”

“Yes, we could have,” Steve admitted. “And we chose not to.”

Darcy was silent for a minute, staring at the television. Then she looked up at Bucky again. “He hurt you. Badly. And he knew it – the computer version of him, I mean. He knew it, and he didn’t care.”

“That’s true,” Bucky agreed.

“I’m glad you hurt him,” Darcy said. She ground her teeth for a moment, then said, “Everybody thinks I’m all sweetness and light and I’d never hurt anybody, and sure I didn’t like what I was hearing in there and it was awful but…” She shook her head. “I’m glad, at the same time. He deserved to be hurt.”

“Well, I think so, too,” Bucky replied, squeezing her shoulders. “That’s kinda why I did it.”

“How do you reconcile the two?” she asked. “How do you say ‘I’m a good person and I don’t want to hurt people but this person deserved to be hurt and I’m glad it happened to them’?”

“Well, first you remember that Zola, no matter how alive it seemed, wasn’t actually a person. Remember what JARVIS told us about its memory capacity and stuff.” Steve dropped a kiss on her temple. “And then… I don’t know. It’s a mindset I think Bucky and I learned during the war – we didn’t want to kill people, but Nazis have to die.”

“Sometimes that’s the only way to stop bad people from doing bad things,” Bucky said. “It’s like keeping a rabid dog around. It’s bad for everyone concerned. You don’t keep a rabid dog and hope it’ll get better or change its mind about being rabid; you put it down.”

“Yeah, but you don’t torture a rabid dog,” Darcy pointed out.

Bucky shrugged. “If the dog was doing science experiments on prisoners and shooting them up with stuff and cutting their arms off, I might.”

“Okay, fair point,” Darcy agreed. She sighed, letting her head drop back against the back of the couch. “This is a very sticky situation, ethically speaking.”

“It is,” Bucky agreed. “And frankly I can’t say for sure that I’m on the right side of it. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m not. But revenge is like that.”

She studied him. “Do you feel revenged?”

He thought about it. “Somewhat,” he admitted. “It’d be nice if I’d been able to do it to the real thing, but it helped some.”

“Do you think getting Hydra out of SHIELD will help more?”

“As long as I get to kill Nazis, sweetheart, I think every little bit helps.”

Darcy smiled then. “Frankly, I can get behind killing Nazis.” She bit her lip. “I have a friend whose grandmother survived one of the camps. She’s dead now – the grandmother, not the friend – but she told us stories about it when we were small. She said it was the Jews’ responsibility to remember and not to ever let it happen again.”

“I thought you were Catholic,” Steve said.

“I’m not sure Oma knew that,” Darcy said. Then she laughed softly. “Honestly, there were so many kids in that family that I think she thought I was just another one of her grandkids.”

Steve laughed. “That checks out,” he said. “A lot of the moms and grandmas we knew with big families were like that.”

Bucky nodded. “We were like that,” he said. “There was five of us – me and my four brothers and sisters – and about ten or so cousins, and so when other kids would come around, friends or neighbor kids or whatever, they were just another kid. Sometimes just another pair of hands.”

“Can’t tell you how many potatoes I peeled in the Barneses’ kitchen,” Steve said, grinning.

Bucky laughed. “Or anybody else’s. Remember going over to the Cohens’ for Thanksgiving that one year?”

“Oh my god,” Steve said. Then, to Darcy: “Miriam Cohen decided we needed to have Thanksgiving as a neighborhood one year. She invited anyone who wanted to to help with the preparation, bring food, that kind of thing. Big potluck block party Thanksgiving feast. Her husband went upstate somewhere and got the turkeys – I think he actually hunted them or something.”

“He did,” Bucky said. “My uncle Rob went with him. They brought back six of the damn things. We ate turkey for _weeks._ ”

“There you go. So everyone was bringing sides and pies and Mrs. Cohen’s bubbe decided we needed latkes – on Thanksgiving! – and grabbed the nearest kids she could find to start peeling and grating potatoes.”

“That was me and Steve,” Bucky said, picking up the thread of the story, “and Ricky O’Malley and Gina Russo. So there we are, the four of us, stuck in the Cohens’ kitchen instead of getting to play with the other kids.”

“We got those great cookies, though,” Steve pointed out.

“True,” Bucky agreed.

“And it was a big success,” Steve added. 

“Also true,” Bucky said, nodding. “Those cookies were sure a success.”

“They must have been really good if you remember them this far away,” Darcy commented.

Bucky held up his fingers in a circle to estimate the size of the cookies, which were quite large. “Some kind of butter cookie,” he said. “I don’t know enough about cookies to tell you. But they had jam in the middle of them, some strawberry and some elderberry and some raspberry and some apricot.” He grinned. “She saved a whole plate full of ‘em just for us.”

“Worth the latkes,” Steve said firmly. 

Bucky nodded. “Absolutely worth it.”

Darcy laughed softly, shaking her head at them. “You nerds,” she said fondly.

Steve kissed her lips quickly. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” she admitted. “Sorry for punking out earlier.”

“Doll, you didn’t punk out,” Bucky told her. “You’re not used to this stuff.”

“I was there in New Mexico when – ”

“When Thor’s brother tore the place up, yeah, yeah, we know,” Bucky said, waving her words away. “That doesn’t mean you’re _used_ to these kinds of things. And you’ve definitely never been in a position where you were a party to torture.” He shook his head. “I know you shot Thor with your taser thing, but that’s not the same as standing by and watching while somebody deliberately inflicts pain on somebody else like that. And of everybody in that room, you’re the only one without that kind of experience.”

“Tony hasn’t – ” Darcy began.

Steve touched her lips to shush her. “You don’t actually know  _what_ Tony has or hasn’t done or experienced,” he told her. “Don’t assume.”

“Compared to the rest of us, Darce, you’re an innocent,” Bucky said softly. “You’re young and mostly – _mostly_ – untouched by the bad things that happen in the world. Nobody thinks you punked out by not being able to sit through listening to that thing scream.”

“Not that I think it actually _hurt_ ,” Steve pointed out. “Not the way we understand pain, anyway.”

“You don’t?” Bucky asked, surprised.

Steve shook his head. “No. Not really. It’s a computer.” He glanced toward the ceiling. “JARVIS, do you feel physical sensations?”

“No, Captain,” JARVIS replied. “And neither, I think, did Zola.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“See?” Steve said then, looking back and forth between Darcy and Bucky. “I honestly don’t think it was _pain._ ”

“Loss, maybe,” Bucky mused, coming around and sitting on the sofa on the other side of Darcy. 

“I’d probably scream too if I felt someone taking me apart,” Darcy admitted. “Even if it didn’t hurt.”

“I think the worst part is knowing you’re going to die.” Bucky said softly, and when Darcy looked at him, his eyes were distant. “It’s not the hurt or anything else. It’s just thinking ‘well, this is it, I’m going to die’ and knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

Steve made a horrible sound, and Bucky turned to look at him, blinking rapidly. “Shit. Sorry.”

Darcy moved out from between them and Steve lunged for Bucky. “ _I’m_ sorry,” he managed to choke out. “Bucky, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bucky replied, getting hold of Steve’s shoulders and holding him steady. “What kind of bullshit is that? None of this is your fault.”

“It _is,_ ” Steve repeated. “I didn’t catch you.”

“You _couldn’t_ catch me,” Bucky corrected him. “Not the same thing. And it’s not your fault you couldn’t catch me, either. The serum made you bigger, but it didn’t make you stretchy.”

Steve choked on a sob, his hands clenching at Bucky’s arms. “I’m sorry,” he managed again.

Bucky shook Steve’s shoulders firmly. “Stop. It’s not. Your. Fault.” He shook Steve again. “Look at me. Look at my eyes.”

Steve’s eyes, which had been screwed tightly shut, snapped up to Bucky’s. Bucky said, “I need you to say this with me. This was not your fault.”

“It _was,_ ” Steve complained.

“It was _not_ ,” Bucky replied. “And I’m gonna need you to stop making this about you.”

There was a long, sudden quiet in the room before Steve said, “Sorry… what?”

“It’s not your fault. It never was your fault. And I’m telling you it’s not your fault and I want you to stop thinking it was. And by refusing to do that, you’re making _my_ trauma about _you._ ”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed quietly for a second, and then he let go of Bucky, standing up. “I… I think I need to be by myself for a minute.”

Bucky nodded. “Do that,” he said. “Take a shower; you’ll feel better.”

Steve nodded. He paused and kissed Darcy’s cheek, then disappeared down the hall to the bedroom.

Darcy looked down at Bucky. “Little harsh.”

“True, though,” Bucky replied. “I was talking about it with Natasha, and that’s what she said. He’s got a certain tendency toward… she called it drama. Everything’s a big production. And I don’t want him making a big production out of this.”

“He’s been carrying that guilt for awhile.”

“Relatively speaking, not that long,” Bucky replied. “He took the short way here, remember?” He shook his head. “I know it seems harsh, but it’s the only way I can think of to break him out of that guilt before it turns into a behavior pattern. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with him giving me wounded cow eyes every time he thinks I ain’t looking. I’ve got enough problems of my own.”

Darcy frowned. “Still,” she said, “you don’t get to tell him he’s not allowed to be traumatized about it. He watched you die. How would you feel if the roles had been reversed?”

Bucky took a deep breath. “Like he does,” he admitted. “But the roles  _ain’t_ reversed, Darce, and if we  _both_ don’t start making steps toward getting better, neither one of us is gonna get past this. Him and me, we gotta do this together. You get what I’m saying?”

“Mmm,” Darcy hummed. “I get it. You just need to make sure that if you’re going to be hard on him, _he_ gets that, too.”

“Point,” Bucky acknowledged. “I’ll talk to him when he comes out.”

“And I’m gonna be elsewhere while you do,” Darcy said. “You don’t need me in the middle of that conversation. I’m taking my laundry downstairs and cleaning my apartment.”

Bucky blinked at her. “You have an apartment? I thought you lived here.”

“I have been, yeah, but I actually have my own place,” Darcy replied, grinning. “I have plants there and everything.”

“How did I not know this? I’ve been here for months!”

Darcy shrugged. “I’ve been mostly staying here,” she said. “You probably haven’t noticed my stuff creeping in. One of these days, Steve and I will have a real, grown-up conversation about me moving in here and when we do, I’ll pack up my stuff from the other place and bring it all up; until then, I just go get whatever I need when I need it. As a system, it’s been working for us.”

Bucky studied her. “You haven’t moved in properly because of me.”

She pointed a finger at him. “Do not make Steve and my relationship issues about you,” she said firmly. “It’s not about you. Not even a little bit is it about you.”

“Still,” Bucky said, “if I’m in the way…”

“Which part of _don’t make this about you_ is for Steve but not for you?” Darcy interrupted.

Bucky bit his lip, then grinned at her. “Okay, okay, it’s not about me.”

“Damn right it’s not,” Darcy said. “Did you ever think that maybe it’s about _me_?”

“About you?” Bucky asked, looking shocked and confused.

Darcy shook her head at him. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Have your talk with Steve. I’m going to go water my succulents and do some laundry.” She disappeared into the bedroom and returned a minute later with an over-full laundry hamper. “Make sure you talk to him in words of one syllable; he’s not always great with talking about his feelings.”

“What, Steve? Emotionally constipated? I’m shocked, _shocked._ ”

Laughing, Darcy left the apartment. She headed down the hallway to the elevator and went down two floors to the level where her own apartment was located. The air inside had a still feeling to it, like a room unoccupied, and Darcy asked JARVIS to run the circulation system just to clear the place out. She carried her laundry into the utility room and put a load in to wash, then came back out and got started.

The plants came first; she was supposed to water them the previous day and had not, so they all needed tending; after that, she wiped down all the surfaces with a dusting cloth even though there wasn’t any dust to be seen. She was just wrestling the vacuum out of the hall closet when the doorbell rang, and she went to see who was at the door.

It was Clint. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeeeeeees?”

“Natasha’s busy. Wanna play Mario Kart?”

She studied him. “You know I’ll kick your ass.”

“Maybe not.”

“You know you’re a poor loser.”

“I can be good.”

“You remember what happened last time.”

“It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Darcy considered him, then smiled, shaking her head. “Idiot. I’m not playing Mario Kart with you. But I’ll play something else. Give me a minute to put the vacuum away and I’ll meet you upstairs.”

“Yes!” Clint pumped his fist, then turned and headed toward the elevator at a trot.

Darcy shook her head again and went to put away the vacuum.


	10. Chapter 10

“How do we prove it’s Pierce?” Bucky asked as they sat around the table in the common room the next day. “Who even is Pierce?”

“Alexander Pierce is the Secretary of State,” Tony said, “and currently the North American representative to the World Security Council.” 

“Yeah, so how do we prove it’s him?” Bucky asked. “The guy’s gonna be covered up tight.”

“I don’t need to prove it,” Steve said. “He’s Hydra. He dies.”

“Actually, we do need to prove it,” Natasha disagreed. “Sure _Zola_ said he was Hydra, but that’s Zola. We can’t be sure it was telling the truth until we have evidence of it.”

“Доверяй, но проверяй,” Tony said.

“Exactly,” Natasha replied. “Trust, but verify.”

“But – ” Steve started.

Clint shook his head. “We can’t just move on the word of Zola only,” he told Steve. “How would you feel if we offed the guy and then we found out Zola lied? And imagine what would happen on both the national and world stages.”

Steve sat back in his chair, a little of the bloodlust leaving his face. “Okay, point,” he said in a grudging tone.

“Avengers Murder Secretary of State in Cold Blood,” Clint said, announcing the words like a newsboy hawking a headline.

“Film at eleven,” Bruce agreed.

“I _said_ you made your point.”

“So,” Bucky said, returning the conversation to his original question, “how do we prove it was Pierce?”

“And how do we find out who else he’s working with?” Tony added.

“We start with the small fish,” Natasha replied. “We need Sitwell.”

“You know who we really need?” Clint said. “Whoever was following Tony.”

  
There was a long moment of silence before Bucky said, “Hey, so, I got an idea.”

~*~

“Oh, it is _nice_ to be outside,” Bucky said, stretching his arms above his head and appreciating the way the sun shone off his prosthetic.

“Sunlight,” Tony groaned. “Heat.”

“Oh, get over it,” Bucky replied. “It’s barely seventy-three degrees.”

“Both of you stop bitching,” Natasha said through their earpieces. “JARVIS has every eye on you that he can find or reasonably hack.”

“I hope I get a chance to buy some books,” Bucky said. Then he paused. “Then again, if I bought books and they got messed up by some Hydra goons, that would really ruin my day. Maybe I’ll just browse.”

“Probably a good idea,” Steve said, his tone droll. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I left _all_ the stupid right there in the tower with you, pal,” Bucky replied, laughing. He and Tony made their way around the back of the building to Park Avenue, then headed southwest toward Strand. They strolled along easily, chatting about inconsequential things, until Bucky suddenly said, “yeah, we’ve got company.”

“How can you tell?” Tony asked.

Bucky tossed himself onto a bench in a brilliant patch of sun and propped one foot on the opposite knee, grinning. “Watch for a guy in black pants and a green shirt.”

Tony sat down next to him, tilting his head back. He slipped on his sunglasses and pretended to bask in the sun, but actually watching everyone who came past. Sure enough, within just a minute, a man matching Bucky’s description passed them. “Now watch him,” Bucky said softly, nudging Tony with his elbow. He pointed at a souvenir stand across the street. “Is that you on that shirt?”

Tony lifted his head and peered at the stand’s merchandise. “Yes,” he said after a moment, grinning.

The man in the green shirt crossed the street against the light, disappeared into a swarm of tourists, and then came out on the other side, leaning casually against a streetlight and looking the other direction.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony said. “We’ve definitely got company.”

“And he’s not very good at this.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair, standing up and stretching again. “JARVIS, can you get his face?”

“Searching now,” JARVIS replied. A moment later he said, “Rollins, Jack. SHIELD agent, level five. Command of STRIKE Team Alpha.”

“ _Command_ ,” Natasha said. “I thought Rumlow was in command of that team. I wonder what happened.”

“He lost the Winter Soldier, is what happened,” Clint said suddenly. “Rumlow got demoted for losing Bucky.”

“Ohhh,” Bruce breathed. “Plot twist.”

Natasha hummed. “You might be right about that. All right, Bucky, reel that fish in.”

“Tony, you’re sure about that tracker thing?” Bucky asked.

“Yep,” Tony replied. “Nobody gets between that thing and JARVIS.”

“And you can’t lose it.”

Tony smirked. “Not without losing the reactor.” He narrowly avoided tapping the reactor out of habit, and crammed his hands into his pockets instead.

“Right, then,” Bucky said. “Here’s hoping we don’t lose _me_ in this process.”

“Don’t worry,” Tony said, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “Nobody can get that arm off you, either, not without your voice activation code; you’re not losing your tracker, either.”

“And if they… it won’t stop working if they freeze me again?”

“They’re not going to freeze you again,” Steve said, his voice firm. “That’s a promise.”

Tony interjected. “Besides, they can’t freeze you; we have the cryotube.”

“Sure, unless they have another one,” Bucky replied sourly. Then he shook his head. “Come on; let’s get this show on the road.”

He stood up and Tony did the same, and they started down Park again, heading toward Strand.

Inside the bookstore, which was crammed with shoppers, Bucky and Tony separated. From a vantage point in the nonfiction section, Bucky watched as Rollins stood outside the shop, clearly conflicted about how to proceed. Carefully, carefully, Bucky moved to a place where he was visible from outside, picking up a book and flipping it over to read the blurb on the back. He put it back down and then slowly began to make his way in toward science fiction and fantasy. After a moment, just before he would have disappeared from Rollins’s sight, the man entered the shop and moved toward Bucky.

Bucky stepped around a corner between two shelves and waited until Rollins was almost on top of him before leaning into the man’s ear and whispering “ _Hail Hydra_ .”

Rollins jerked back, nearly falling, and Bucky smirked at him. “Hello, Jack,” he said.

Rollins stared at him, looking around to make sure nobody was paying attention to them. “How do you know me?” Rollins hissed.

Bucky shrugged. “Don’t know,” he replied. “But I do. You’re a handler. We should talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Rollins replied. “Uh. Right here, or…?”

“No, дурак,” Bucky snapped. “Outside.” He stepped forward, herding Rollins toward the door. “Come on. Don’t take all day.”

The two men stepped out into the sunlight and Bucky touched Rollins’s upper arm. “This way. Hurry up before Stark sees.”

“You don’t – you don’t want to stay with Stark?” Rollins asked, looking dumbfounded.

“Are you soft in the head?” Bucky asked, snatching Rollins into an alley. “Did I just hail _Stark_ to you?!”

“No, no, I guess not,” Rollins replied. “I just, uh. I figured they’d…”

“Try to keep me? Of course they are,” Bucky replied, pushing Rollins ahead of him into a small warren where several alleys met.

Rollins turned to face him. “Wait a minute,” he demanded. “Just what the hell is going on? I came expecting to have to  _at least_ trigger you, but you just…”

“Came right to you?” Bucky replied. “Of course I did.” Then he smirked. “You’ve been following me since I left the tower, and JARVIS says you’re SHIELD, and _my_ guess is that anybody with SHIELD who knows about me enough to follow me into a crowded bookstore intending to – what’d you say? Trigger me? that’s interesting – is probably Hydra… and then you just proved it, so thanks for that.”

Rollins opened his mouth, but Bucky clapped a hand over it. “Uh-uh-uh,” he said, mockingly. “Not until I know what you meant by triggering. No talking from you. Guys, can somebody bring me another earbud?”

“Got you covered, Buck,” said Steve from the other side of the little warren. He stepped out of his hiding place and offered Bucky his own earbud.

Bucky put the bud into his other ear and said, “JARVIS, can you give me white noise in both mine and Steve’s earbuds, please?”

“Certainly, Sergeant,” JARVIS said, and a moment later, Bucky was treated to the soft, calming sounds of waves on the beach. He relinquished custody of Rollins to Steve and stepped back, smiling a little. 

Steve raised an eyebrow and Bucky pointed to his ear. “Ocean sounds,” he said.

Steve gave him a thumbs up.

From another point in the little twist of alleys came Natasha. She said something that made Rollins go pale, and then Tony was there, too, and he jerked his head at the direction Steve had come from.  _Let’s go,_ he mouthed at Bucky, and Bucky nodded and followed the rest of them out and back to the tower.

~*~

Darcy was in Tony’s office working on paperwork for science lab requisitions when Devin tapped on the door and said, “Miss Lewis, there’s a ‘Bucky’ here to see you?”

“Oh, sure, Devin, let him in.”

Bucky entered the room and tossed himself into one of the chairs on the other side of Tony’s desk as Darcy put her work aside and Devin pulled the door shut. “So, we got him.”

“Good,” Darcy said. “Mind if I ask why you’re not in interrogation?”

“Can’t,” Bucky replied. “He apparently knows some kind of words that can trigger the Winter Soldier.”

“Oh, shit,” Darcy said. “Yeah, you can’t risk him saying any of them.”

“Exactly,” Bucky said. “So instead I’m here with you. And I got to thinking about your kid out there. Wanna do something about him? Like, right now?”

“Sure,” Darcy said, sitting forward in her chair. “What are we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna find out who he works for.”

“What if he, you know, knows trigger words?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“I’m not sure I am,” Darcy replied, looking concerned. “Bucky, if he says something that makes you violent, I can’t fight you off.”

Bucky, who had been about to object, paused and frowned. “Okay, good point,” he said. Then he had a thought. “JARVIS, has Devin tried to access any of the secure areas?”

“None,” JARVIS replied. “He goes nowhere in the building that he’s not permitted to go.”

“Hmm.”

“Anything unusual about his behavior patterns that you can see, JARVIS?” Darcy asked.

There was a moment’s pause while JARVIS considered this. “I have noted that he does not spend his lunch break socializing with the other administrative assistants, but rather is trying to ingratiate himself with the scientists and their interns,” he said finally.

Darcy looked over at Bucky. “Holy shit,” she said. “He’s not Hydra at all; he’s doing industrial espionage.”

“The what, now?” Bucky asked.

“Stealing corporate secrets,” Darcy explained. “Usually for another company. I wonder who he works for.”

“We’ll find out,” Bucky promised her. “Just keep an eye on him. JARVIS, can you keep monitoring his communications? Both in and out of the tower?”

“I have now downloaded a surveillance bot onto his cell phone,” JARVIS replied. “Any phone calls he makes will be logged and all text conversations recorded. Further, use of consumer-encrypted apps such as WhatsApp will also be monitored.”

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Darcy replied. “Can you also let me know when Pepper’s free so I can let her know about all this?”

“She is about to finish a conference call,” JARVIS replied, “and her schedule is blank for the next half hour.”

“Awesome,” Darcy said. “Just let me know when that call ends.”

Five minutes later, Darcy was sitting in front of Pepper’s desk, reporting on what she’d just done. “…So I’m pretty sure it’s corporate espionage,” she said, finishing her recitation.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re right,” Pepper replied. “But you’re also right about not letting Bucky do this by himself.” She gave Bucky an apologetic look. “I know you want to, and I want to let you, but this business of triggers? That’s bigger than us, and Darcy’s right about not being able to fight you off.”

Bucky sighed, his shoulders drooping, but he nodded. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”

“Once we get these triggers handled,” Pepper said, “you can be in on all the takedowns you want.”

And that, of course, was when the building went into lockdown.

~*~

Rumlow was watching when Rollins went into the bookstore after the Asset; he was listening in on Rollins’s earpiece when the Asset hailed Hydra at him, and he immediately smelled a trap. Unfortunately, Rollins was well and truly trapped; there was nothing he could do about it once the Asset had him in the alley behind the store. Rumlow started to charge in to try and overpower the Asset but it was no good once he realized the Asset had backup.

Shit.

He hung back and watched as Rollins was brought out of the back alley and bundled into a car without so much as a chance to yell for help; the Asset looked totally serene and Rumlow wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off the Asset’s smug face. How dare it look like that? How dare it escape Hydra and have the nerve, the unmitigated _gall_ , to act like it was a person with a person’s right to moods and feelings and choices? How dare it think it had the right to _leave Hydra_ and start palling around with a bunch of do-gooder assholes?

Hydra would have owned the world already if it wasn’t for Tony fucking Stark, who’d intercepted Pierce’s personally-ordered nuke and prevented it from hitting New York. Sure, Rumlow had actually been _in_ New York at the time and Stark’s intervention had saved Rumlow’s life but _that didn’t matter_ because if he had died, he would have done so in service of Hydra, and that was all that mattered.

It was time to take the Asset back by any means necessary.

He made his way to the nearest rearmament depot, which was very close: a garden apartment on 11th. Two soldiers were sat in the depot when Rumlow arrived; one of them let him into the armory and the other verified what he took for inventory. “Be prepared,” Rumlow told them. “I’ll be back with the Winter Soldier.”

The inventory guy blinked at Rumlow. “The Winter Soldier?” he said. “I thought he was a myth.”

“It exists,” Rumlow replied. “And it’s gotten loose. I’m about to retrieve it.”

“Need assistance?” the key holder asked.

“Nope,” Rumlow replied. “I got this.” He loaded himself up with as many weapons as he felt he could carry without being noticed and potentially stopped by the NYPD; they’d been infiltrated at low levels but he couldn’t guarantee that hailing Hydra would get him anywhere with a random officer on the street.

Both the resupply soldiers saluted him as he headed for the front door. “Hail Hydra!”

“Hail Hydra,” Rumlow repeated, and out the door he went.

He made his way back up Park and entered Stark Tower through the back way into the lobby; he looked around at everyone in the room and decided on the best possible target. Then he made his move. Crossing the expansive space, he walked up to the woman at the concierge desk and waited in front of her until she looked up, customer service smile on her face. “Hi, welcome to Stark Tower,” she said. “I’m Candy. How can I help you?”

He pulled out a gun and rested it on the counter, his hand on the butt and his finger beside the trigger. “You can get Captain America down here on the double. No funny business. Tell him it’s Brock Rumlow from SHIELD.”

To her credit, the woman did not shriek or cry or even look very frightened. She went a bit pale, but her hand only shook a little as she reached for the phone by her computer screen. “Hello, JARVIS,” she said. “This is Candy at the concierge desk. Can you please have Captain America called to the lobby, authorization forty-seven alpha? There’s a Brock Rumlow of SHIELD here to see him.” There was a moment’s pause before she repeated, “That’s right, I’m forty-seven alpha.” She nodded, then said, “Thank you.”

She looked up at Rumlow and smiled again, her eyes hard. “You’re welcome to take a seat and wait for him.”

“I’m fine standing right here, thanks,” Rumlow replied.

“Mmm.” The woman stared at him for a moment, then turned her attention back to the computer in front of her. “He may be a few minutes,” she said.

“Oh, that’s fine.” Rumlow smirked. “I don’t mind standing here and making conversation with you.”

“Mr. Rumlow,” the woman replied, “I did three tours in Afghanistan. If you think I have anything to say to a punk ass bitch like yourself, you can think again.” She pointed across the lobby. “You can have a seat over there and wait for the Captain like a normal person.”

Rumlow’s eyes flicked around the lobby and quite suddenly he realized that the number of civilians in the large space was being quietly but efficiently reduced. He narrowed his eyes and flicked the safety off his gun. “What’s forty-seven alpha?” he demanded.

She smirked at him. “That code locks down the tower, Mr. Rumlow, and advises the JARVIS system that there’s a security event in progress at my location.”

He raised the gun and pointed it at her. “Convince me not to kill you right now.”

“Put the gun down,” said Captain America’s voice from across the lobby.

Rumlow paused, then smirked at the woman. “You want to be a hero, Candy?” he asked, and hoisted himself over the desk, grabbing her by her long brown ponytail and shoving the barrel of the gun against the hinge of her jaw. “Come have a chat, Cap,” he called over to the man in the dark blue tac suit, as the other people manning the desk scattered, running for exits.

~*~

Steve took in the sight of Rumlow, whom he’d met once or twice, with his gun shoved into the neck of the concierge. He considered her face; she didn’t look too frightened. She certainly wasn’t panicking or crying or any of the other things he’d expect a civilian to do. She must be ex-military. He’d have to remember that; hopefully she wouldn’t decide to do anything stupid like try to take the guy down herself. There was no telling what Rumlow was trained to do, if he was enhanced… anything, really.

Wary, Steve moved closer to the concierge desk. “You don’t need that, Rumlow,” he said. “Let the lady go.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Rumlow replied. “Not til I get what’s mine.”

“And what exactly do you think is yours here?” Steve asked, tilting his head a little to feign curiosity.

“You know what,” Rumlow replied. “I want the Asset and I want it now.”

“Asset?” Steve said. “I don’t think we have anything called an Asset.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Rumlow snarled, shaking the woman by her ponytail. “I watched it out with Tony Stark today; I don’t know how you turned it against Hydra but you’re going to give it back. It belongs to us.”

“Out with Tony,” Steve said as though thinking about it carefully. “Oh, you must mean _Bucky_.”

“What the fuck makes you call it something that stupid?” Rumlow sneered.

“Well, you see,” Steve replied, “that’s his name. Bucky Barnes. He, ah. Happens to be a friend of mine.”

Rumlow’s eyes widened and he started to laugh. “No shit,” he said. “No shit. Must have been a hell of a reunion when it came out of that cryofreeze tank, huh, Cap? Was it happy to see you? Big fat tears and big bear hugs?”

“What would you know about it?” Steve asked, suddenly feeling tight as a piano wire.

“Oh, I saw the videos from the last time they let it out,” Rumlow replied. “How it begged not to go in the chair, promised to be good, offered to do _anything._ ” He leered at Steve. “It offer that to you, too, Cap? _Anything_?”

If they hadn’t already had this conversation with Bucky, Steve would be losing his mind right about now. As it was he had a feeling Rumlow was making it up, but it didn’t matter. He merely said, “Nope. We didn’t have that problem.”

“Started off malfunctioning, I guess,” Rumlow said. “That’s okay; we’ll fix it. One time in its chair ought to remind it who’s boss.”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that,” Steve replied. “We found the chair. It’s been reduced to its component parts and, uh. Dealt with.”

~*~

That was a problem. If they really _had_ found the chair… Rumlow hadn’t even thought to check on it.

Fuck. They were a step ahead of him at every possible moment. They stole the Asset without him knowing; they stole Zola without him knowing; they got the chair without him knowing; Pierce really was going to have Rumlow executed, and he’d fucking deserve it for losing to these assholes.

But he wasn’t completely without hope. He shook Candy by her hair again and said, “Get it down here, Cap, before this girl loses her pretty face. Tell it I said ‘sputnik’.”

~*~

“Well, shit,” Bucky said. His knees went weak, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed in a heap in front of Pepper’s desk.

Darcy ran to his side, rolling him over onto his back, and patted his cheeks. “Bucky?” she said. “Bucky, wake up! Wake up!”

Pepper pulled Darcy back. “Leave him alone,” she said. “He might wake up, and you don’t know how he’ll be when he does.”

After a moment, Bucky did in fact wake up – slowly, and reaching for his head. “Oww.”

“Bucky?” Darcy practically begged.

“Yeah?” Bucky replied. “What happened?”

“He had a code word,” Darcy said. “He must have figured you’d be watching or something; he said it to Steve.”

“Huh,” Bucky said. He sat up, gingerly touching his head. “God, I don’t know what it was supposed to do but it sure gave me a splitting headache.”

“Maybe it didn’t work right,” Darcy said. “Do you… I mean… do you feel murdery at all?”

He laughed. “No,” he said, shifting so he could rest his back against Pepper’s desk. “No, I just feel like I want to lie down again.”

“No desire to go running back to the bosom of Hydra?” Pepper asked, and Bucky laughed, shaking his head carefully.

“No, I feel normal.” He considered. “I wonder what it was supposed to do.”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad it didn’t work,” Darcy said. And then she gasped. She pulled out of Pepper’s grasp, grabbed a box of tissue off the nearby side table, and ran to Bucky’s side, pulling a handful of tissue out of the box.

She mopped at his upper lip, and he was astonished to see that she was wiping away blood. “Oh, that’s not good,” he said, taking more tissue and putting pressure on his nose. He tilted his head back a little bit, then closed his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he said softly. “Getting dizzy.”

“JARVIS, get Bruce and one of the doctors from Medical, right away,” Darcy ordered. “Tell them Bucky’s got a sudden nosebleed and something may be wrong with his head.”

“Dr. Sunderland is on his way with a team,” JARVIS said a moment later. “Bruce will meet you in the medical suite.”

“Thanks,” Darcy said. She cupped the back of Bucky’s head. “Just stay awake, Bucky, okay?”

“No worries, Darce,” Bucky replied. “I’m not feeling like passing out. More like puking.”

Pepper grabbed the wastebasket from the executive bathroom and brought it immediately. Bucky wrapped his arm around it, holding it close just in case.

A minute or so later, the door to Pepper’s office opened and Dr. Sunderland appeared, along with a couple of orderlies who were bringing a gurney. They got Bucky up and onto the gurney and started to carry him away again. Darcy made to follow, pausing to look at Pepper. “Coming?”

“No, I’m going to monitor the situation from here,” Pepper replied. “Keep me updated on what’s happening.”

“Will do,” Darcy replied, and took off after the doctor and Bucky.

~*~

“Sputnik, huh?” Steve asked. “And what’s that meant to do to him? Turn him back into your automaton?”

“You’ll find out,” Rumlow replied, smirking. “I bet it’s been watching this on the security feed, huh? Better check with whoever’s babysitting it and make sure they’re safe; it gets a little agitated when whoever’s in charge of it doesn’t know the right key phrases. Back in ‘02 it put a scientist through a wall; I saw the video. Pretty exciting the way that egghead just bounced right off. I don’t think the egghead felt the same way, though.”

Steve, despite the worry this taunting engendered, rolled his eyes, forcing himself to maintain calm. “You really think you’re a badass, don’t you, Rumlow?”

Rumlow went still. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said,” Steve replied. “You really think you’re a badass. Swaggering around, swearing at everything, sneering at anyone you think is beneath you. Why? Because you put yourself in hock to an organization founded by a guy who ripped his own face off and went nuts?”

“Get me the Asset,” Rumlow snarled. “Now!”

Steve shook his head. “Rumlow, you know that’s not going to happen. You’re not getting him, and you’re not getting away, either. The only way you’re leaving this building is in handcuffs.”

“I swear to god I will kill this bitch.”

“Then you’ll leave the building in a body bag,” Steve replied.

~*~

This was not going according to plan _at all._ Where the fuck was the Asset? It should be making its way to him right now! It should be following the homing signal from its arm –

Rumlow froze. The arm.

“Fuck,” he said suddenly. “You took the tracker out of its arm.”

“Yes, Rumlow,” Cap said in that same calm, even tone. “We did. We took everything out of his arm except the mechanics it needed to function.”

“You son of a bitch,” Rumlow said softly.

“You don’t have an exit here,” Cap said. “Come quietly and we’ll make arrangements for you.”

“Fuck you, Cap,” Rumlow snarled. He slung Candy away from him, enjoying the cry of pain she let out when she hit the floor hard, and shoved the barrel of his gun under his own chin. “ _Hail Hydra!_ ” he shouted, his voice ringing through the lobby, and pulled the trigger.

~*~

Steve lunged forward to try and stop Rumlow from shooting, but he couldn’t; it was too late.

~*~

“I’m not sure what it was meant to do,” Bruce said, looking over Bucky’s brain scans with Dr. Sunderland, “but what it _did_ was apparently fizzle.”

“It don’t feel fizzled,” Bucky said, clutching a wet towel to his face. “My head’s pounding like anything.”

Dr. Sunderland came over to examine Bucky again. “I think you’ve stopped bleeding, though,” he said, looking down at the towel. He got another one, clean this time, and gently wiped away the last of the blood before handing it to Bucky. “Hold this in case it starts again.”

Darcy stood beside Bucky’s bed, watching the doctors from across the room. “How’s his brain scan look?”

“Better,” Bruce said. “It’s better every time we look at it. Bucky, I think you’re almost back to a typical baseline.”

“Well, that’s good news, I guess,” Bucky said.

Bruce smiled at him. “Means you’re mostly healed,” he said.

“Oh,” Bucky replied. “Definitely good news, then.”

“Yes,” Darcy agreed, nodding. She squeezed Bucky’s free hand. “JARVIS, what’s going on in the lobby?”

There was a long pause, one in which Bucky and Darcy looked at each other, worried. Finally, JARVIS said, “It might be best if I let Captain Rogers tell you himself.”

“He’s all right, though?” Darcy asked, her voice small.

“He is absolutely unharmed,” JARVIS replied, “and the situation has been resolved.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, blowing out a long, slow breath. “Okay. Thanks, JARVIS.”

It was Bucky who squeezed Darcy’s hand this time. “He’s okay,” he said softly.

Darcy nodded, shutting her eyes tight for a long minute before opening them again. “I was worried there for a second.”

“Me, too,” Bucky admitted.

Dr. Sunderland came around on Bucky’s other side, examining his nose again, then his eyes, then his ears. “Okay, I’m not seeing anything else,” he said. “I think you’re all right. You don’t appear concussed; your nose has stopped bleeding; I don’t see anything unusual on your brain scans. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re fine.”

Bucky sat up immediately. “I can go?”

“Home, yes,” Dr. Sunderland replied. “I want you taking it very easy for the rest of the day, and you’re to let me know if anything untoward happens. I do _not_ want you messing around in whatever the Captain is up to.”

Bruce smiled. “I’ll go down to the lobby and see what’s going on and report back; how does that sound?”

Bucky and Darcy exchanged a look, then both nodded in unison at Bruce. “Sounds good,” Darcy said. “I’ll take this lunkhead home, then, and put him on the couch.”

“Excellent idea,” Dr. Sunderland said. “But call me if the bleeding starts again or you experience any other unusual symptoms.”

Bucky saluted lazily. “Will do, Doc.” He pushed himself off the bed, waited a moment to make sure he wouldn’t be dizzy, nodded, and tilted his head toward the door. “Coming, Darce?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I’m coming.”

~*~

“You can stay here tonight as our guest,” Tony said, letting Rollins into a small apartment on the 82nd floor. “There’s plenty of food in the fridge; you’re welcome to whatever’s there. Sorry there’s no internet or, you know, any other way for you to communicate out with any of your people.”

Rollins, still reeling from what Rumlow had done, sat himself down on the sofa and looked up at Tony. “Honestly, man, I don’t think I give a fuck any more.”

“That’s good,” Tony said. “It’ll make things a lot easier tomorrow when we start asking questions.” He gave Rollins a pat on the shoulder, then turned and left the room. “JARVIS,” he said once the door was shut, “Nobody in or out on my authorization, code four two seventy-nine alpha iota strawberry.”

“Acknowledged,” JARVIS replied.

Tony headed down the hall to the elevator, whistling, and went up to the common room to check on his team.

~*~

Nobody reported to Pierce that evening as he had expected; he sat in his study alone instead, seething and wondering where the hell his STRIKE team members were.

And then, about eleven o’clock, he turned on the news.


	11. Chapter 11

“It’s true,” Rollins said in reply to the first question Natasha posed the next morning. “We report directly to Pierce. Or, well. _Reported_ , I guess. He’ll know what happened to Rumlow by now and since he hasn’t heard from me, he’s probably guessed that you have me. Either that or he thinks I’ve taken off. Either way, I’m on the list.”

“What list would that be?” Natasha asked.

Rollins gave her a humorless smile. “You know exactly what list, Black Widow. The enemies list.”

“You think you’re marked, then?”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Rollins replied. “If he thinks I’ve run, I’m definitely an enemy; if he knows you have me, then he’ll know I’m being interrogated and he’ll assume I’ve rolled over. Either way, I’m a dead man.”

“Well, you might as well spill your guts, then,” Natasha said. “Maybe we can work something out.”

“I hope you’re not stupid enough to think Witness Protection can help me.”

Natasha laughed. “Not at all. But we can help you run.”

“No, you can’t,” Rollins replied, but he sat back in his chair. “Ask me whatever you want to ask me.”

“Tell me about the Asset,” Natasha said.

“It used to be human,” Rollins told her. “Zola got hold of it and wiped its brain. Now it’s a weapon. No name, no personality, just missions. That’s all it does. They take it out, un-freeze it, send it after a target, then freeze it again.”

“Have you seen this done?”

Rollins shook his head. “Not in person. But they recorded it the last time they did it, in ‘02, and we saw the videos.”

“Who’s _we_?”

“Me, Rumlow, Harris, Sitwell, Garrett, Ward.”

“John Garrett and Grant Ward?” Natasha clarified. When Rollins nodded, she said, “Just how many Hydra agents are there in SHIELD?”

“A few hundred,” Rollins said after a thought.

Could be worse, Natasha thought; there were nearly ten thousand SHIELD agents in all; if it came down to it, SHIELD would win on sheer numbers. But they had to be ready. She wondered who she could trust. She thought of Coulson. She bit her lip. It was time to bring in their bigger fish.

~*~

Jasper Sitwell was leaving his apartment to go get take-out when Natasha Romanoff walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t yell, Sitwell,” she said, “or do anything stupid.”

Sitwell turned, looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “Romanoff? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in New York.”

“Oh, I’m here to pick you up,” Romanoff said. Her hand slipped from his shoulder down to his elbow. “Come along nicely and I won’t have to hurt you.”

“Come _where_?” he demanded, refusing to move.

“Into the car,” Romanoff said, her grip getting tighter. “And remember what I said about not yelling.”

Sitwell suddenly realized he was being kidnapped. He drew in a deep breath only to expel it like a deflating bagpipe when someone punched him in the kidney. Romanoff made a soft _tsk_ noise. “I told you not to yell.” Now that he was more pliant, she moved him right along to the open door of a black limousine that was just pulling up to the curb. “In you go, Agent Sitwell.”

Will-he, nil-he, Sitwell went into the car. He found himself facing Tony Stark, who sat on the opposite bench seat, facing him. Romanoff followed him in, and then so did someone else.

Sitwell made another noise, one he couldn’t immediately identify, when he recognized the Asset, which was now sitting next to Tony Stark.

The Asset smiled at him. “Oh, look,” it said. “I think he recognizes me.”

Sitwell had _some_ presence of mind left. “Sputnik!” he shouted. “Code four-two-nine, Asset, get me out of here!”

The Asset – _laughed._ “Oh, _that_ one,” it said. “Yeah, Rumlow tried that one. Gave me a nosebleed and a splitting headache that lasted for days, but didn’t do anything else. Guess it doesn’t work.”

Sitwell recognized the emotion connected to the noise he made now: it was fear.

The car pulled up to a stoplight and Sitwell lunged for the door handle; Tony Stark laughed at him. “Please,” he said. “Did you expect me – _me_ – not to think of that? This car is equipped with child locks. Nobody gets out until our driver lets them out.” Then he tapped on the glass. “Driver!”

The glass window came down and Steve Rogers’s voice came through the little window. “Tony, I told you not to call him ‘Driver;’ it’s rude. Now apologize.”

Stark sighed. “Sorry, Happy.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark,” the driver – apparently called Happy? – replied. “What did you need?”

Stark opened his mouth, then shut it again. “I can’t remember. Principal Rogers drove it right out of my mind.”

“Couldn’t have been too important, then,” Rogers said, and a moment later, the glass partition went back up.

“You won’t get anything from me,” Sitwell said with a little more bravado than he actually felt.

The Asset just smiled.

Romanoff laughed. “We don’t actually need anything from you, Jasper,” she said. “We have Rollins, and he sings like an opera diva.”

“What… what do you want, then?” Sitwell asked, a bit flummoxed.

“Your boss,” Stark replied.

Sitwell feigned confusion. “Nick Fury?”

“Oh, please,” Stark said.

The Asset sighed. “Can’t I hit him? Just once?”

“You already did hit him once,” Romanoff pointed out. “Just now, in the kidney.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get to use the metal arm,” the Asset complained.

“How the hell did you implant a personality on that thing?” Sitwell blurted.

A moment later, he found himself with the Asset’s face a mere inch from his own, the Asset’s hot breath dusting his skin and the metal hand wrapped tightly enough around his neck to _almost_ cut off his air. “I’m not a _thing_ ,” the Asset snarled. “You fucking call me that again and we’re gonna have problems, me and you. You get me? Say yes, sir.”

“Yeh – yes – yes, sir,” Sitwell managed to wheeze.

“Good boy,” the Asset replied. It – he – sat back and adjusted its – his – shirt. “I even got a name, asshole,” the Asset told him. “It’s Barnes. Bucky to my friends, which you ain’t one. I think you can call me Mr. Barnes. I like the sound of that. What do you think?”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” Sitwell heard himself blabber. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” the Asset – _Barnes_ – said again, and this time, he smirked. “You know, that’s funny, I always thought it’d be weird hearing people call me Mr. Barnes, like they called my Pops. But it sounds kinda nice. Especially coming from people like this little weasel.”

“Weasels are cute, curious, and friendly creatures,” Romanoff said. She dug into her back pocket and pulled out her phone, fingers flying across the screen. Then she tapped once and handed the phone to Barnes, who looked with interest. A soft squeaking noise came from the phone, and Sitwell suddenly realized that she was _showing the Asset a video of a cute weasel._

“What the _fuck_?” Sitwell blurted. “Are you looking at cute YouTube videos right now?!”

“I told you, Sitwell, we don’t need you,” Romanoff said.

Barnes raised an eyebrow at Sitwell. “You mean you _don’t_ want me in a better mood the next time I ask about your boss?”

Sitwell, to his own disgust, found himself cowering slightly back. “No – I mean yes. Uh. Sir.”

He wanted to strangle himself. But at the same time… he’d seen the videos. Pierce had shown him and the others the videos so they’d know what the Asset was capable of in case it ever had to be deployed and they should happen to be on its team. He knew, better than most, what the Asset – Barnes – was capable of.

He glanced at Stark, who sat next to Barnes with total unconcern, and then at Romanoff, who was watching Barnes with amusement as he clicked onto the next video. “See?” she said. “I told you.”

“I want a pet weasel,” Barnes said after watching another video.

“No rodents in the tower,” Stark replied. “We’ll get you a service dog or something.”

“I ain’t blind; the fuck do I need a service dog for?”

“Oh, they’re not just for the blind,” Romanoff said. “They can be trained to do all kinds of support tasks. A lot of veterans have PTSD-support dogs.”

“Well, save them for people who need them,” Barnes said. “Maybe when this is all over we’ll go down to the pound and pick one out.”

“That sounds like fun,” Romanoff agreed.

Barnes raised an eyebrow at Sitwell. “What do you think?” he said. “Maybe I’ll get a pretty little bitch and name her Jasper.”

“Fuck you,” Sitwell replied.

Barnes laughed. “Congratulations on finding your balls! Put ‘em back in your pocket; you won’t need ‘em here.”

“What do you _want_?!” Sitwell demanded.

“We told you,” Stark said. “We want your boss. Who do you report to?”

“Nick Fury,” Sitwell replied.

“That’s the second time he’s invoked Fury,” Romanoff commented. “I’d say that’s fair evidence that we can _maybe_ bring him in on this.”

“Yeah, Rollins said he was clean.” Barnes nodded.

“I wouldn’t trust Nick Fury as far as I could throw him,” Stark said, “but that may be because he once arranged to have me stabbed in the neck.”

“Are you _still_ on about that?” Romanoff demanded. “That was a year ago.”

“I don’t forget when people stab me in the neck,” Stark replied, glaring at her.

“Excuse me, but could you have your personal spats on your own time?” Sitwell demanded.

They turned back to him, and suddenly he wished he hadn’t spoken.

“So, tell us about your boss,” Stark said.

“Tall, black, wears an eyepatch,” Sitwell said.

“Yeah, that’s three,” Barnes said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a butterfly knife, whirling it between his fingers before reaching out and very gently touching Sitwell’s carotid artery with it. “You have one chance to open your mouth again,” he said. “One. And if the first word out of your mouth isn’t the name of your boss, I’m going to hurt you. I’m not going to hurt you badly, not at first, but I am going to hurt you, and I’m going to do it slowly. Do you understand? Nod or shake your head.”

Sitwell nodded, once, very quickly.

“Good boy,” Barnes said softly. “Now, I don’t usually like to say what I’m going to do to people, because I find that the anticipation helps speed things along, but in your case, I think the first thing I’m going to do is make some very shallow cuts on your fingers. Fingers are very hard to work on, because they tend to twitch a lot when the subject is in pain, but that’s one of the reasons why I like them. They’re a challenge.” He reached for Sitwell’s hand, pulled it toward himself, and touched the knifepoint to the pad of Sitwell’s first finger. “Now I’m going to ask you to open your mouth and tell me a name. And if I like what I hear, then you get a reprieve and I won’t hurt you this time.”

Sitwell felt his mouth open and the words fall out. “Pierce,” he said. “Alexander Pierce.”

“Thank you,” Barnes said, and he let go of Sitwell’s hand. A moment later, the knife disappeared back into Barnes’s pocket.

Barnes sat back, and Stark gave a low whistle. “I can’t decide if I’m more terrified or turned on.”

Barnes smirked at him. “Porque no los dos?”

~*~

When Alexander Pierce’s phone rang at eight-thirty p.m., he glanced at the caller ID and felt surprised. His lackeys didn’t usually call him; this must be important. He picked the phone up and hit the call button. “Yes?”

“Sir,” Sitwell’s thready voice said, “I, uh. I have someone here who wants to speak to you.”

“To me?” Pierce replied, feeling a bit of annoyance well up. What the hell kind of game was Sitwell playing? “And who, might I ask, would that be?”

“Oh, that would be me,” said a man’s voice that was distinctly _not_ Sitwell. “We haven’t met. My name’s Tony Stark, and I have something you want. Two somethings, in fact.”

Pierce sat up straight, but he kept his voice casual. “Oh?” he asked. “And what would those things be?”

“The first one is the Asset,” Stark replied. “The second one is Zola.”

 _Zola._ Fuck. He’d broken into Zola.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Pierce replied.

Stark chuckled. “That’s not what Zola says.”

Zola had _talked_? To _Stark_?! “Mr. Stark,” Pierce began, but was interrupted by a quick “Tony, please.” Pierce cleared his throat. “Tony.”

“Yes, Alexander?” Tony replied, a smug sound to his voice.

“Tony, I have no idea what a Zola is, nor do I believe I have any assets you could have access to.”

“Funny,” Stark replied. “That’s not what the Asset says, either.”

“And what does this ‘asset’ have to say?” Pierce asked, making sure to lay heavy quote marks around the key word.

Stark chuckled. “Hail Hydra,” he replied, and the line disconnected.

Pierce nearly threw his phone across the room in a rage. Stark had everything. He knew everything. _Everything_. What the hell was Pierce going to do now?

He fumed, pacing back and forth across his living room. Stark had everything. He had Zola; he had the Asset; he had Sitwell; he probably had Rollins; hell, he probably still had Rumlow’s corpse, unless the cops had taken it when they cleared the Stark Tower lobby. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

There was really only one thing to do, and it was time to do it: fast.

He got up and went to his bedroom.

~*~

It took two days for the disappearance of the Secretary of State to hit the news. The Secret Service was taking a lot of heat for it, and all they could do was keep insisting to anyone who would listen that the Secretary of State was not a Secret Service protectee. Nobody seemed to know where Alexander Pierce had gone.

“I bet I know where he went,” Natasha said, turning away from the TV in the common room. “Argentina is lousy with Nazis.”

“You’ve been talking to Steve and Bucky too much,” Darcy said from the couch. “That’s something they’d say: ‘lousy with’ something.”

Natasha grinned. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I must have picked that up from Bucky.”

“Don’t worry,” Darcy laughed. “I caught myself calling somebody a rat fink instead of an asshole the other day. It’s contagious.” She kicked her socked feet up onto the coffee table. “So are you going to go after him?”

“Not right away,” Natasha replied. “First we have to get the evidence out about him being Hydra. _Then_ we’ll go after him.”

“You and Bucky, you mean?” Darcy asked.

Natasha nodded. “Bucky owes him a punch or two. Pierce has been personally handling the Winter Soldier program since the late eighties.”

Darcy blinked. “So Pierce is the one who sent Bucky after Howard Stark.”

Natasha nodded again. “We think so. American and Russian Hydra were working together at the time.”

“Not any more?” Darcy asked.

Natasha shook her head. “I don’t think there _is_ Russian Hydra any more,” she admitted, rounding the sofa and heading for the kitchen. “Putin doesn’t like competition.”

“Oh, you make a good point,” Darcy said, thinking about that for a minute. “So where are you going to find the evidence about Pierce?”

“Some of it’s in the data Tony got from Zola; he had a bunch of video files of Pierce dealing with the Winter Soldier, and there’s a lot of Hydra hailing going on in those videos.”

“But if we’re going to release those, don’t we have to go public about Bucky?” Darcy asked. “Like, we could cover his face in the videos, sure, but that arm is… pretty distinctive.”

Natasha nodded. “Yeah, unfortunately that’s what we’re going to have to do.”

“You guys have been talking about this,” Darcy said.

Natasha hummed, getting out sandwich ingredients. “Bucky and I have discussed the probability that he’d need to go public more than once.”

Darcy sighed, hoisting herself up onto the counter and watching Natasha work. “I’d hoped he’d be able to just come home, you know? Be quiet.”

“That was never going to happen,” Natasha said gently. “You know that. He knows that, too; he knew the minute he became an Avenger.”

“I know,” Darcy admitted, leaning back against the wall. “I just… I wanted better for him than to have the public know what kind of horrible shit was done to him.”

“Me, too,” Natasha agreed. “It’s one thing to have bad things in your past; it’s something different to have everybody know about them, to have them color everything you do in the future.”

Darcy nodded. “I didn’t want that for him.”

“He’ll be okay,” Natasha said, putting the lids on a couple of tuna fish sandwiches.

Darcy laughed softly. “Of course he will,” she said. “He’s got us.”

Natasha smiled. “Yes, yes he does.”

~*~

“I’m a little busy, Stark,” Nick Fury said when Tony Stark appeared in his office the day after the news about Pierce had gone public. “I don’t really have time for you.”

“Make time,” Steve Rogers said, coming around Stark and entering Fury’s office without an invitation. “This is important.”

“The last time I checked, _Captain_ ,” Fury said, “you don’t give orders to me.”

“Yeah, well, these are special circumstances,” Rogers replied, and he seated himself without so much as a by-your-leave. “SHIELD has a problem. It’s called Hydra.”

Fury went very still for a moment, then leaned forward in his chair, resting his hands on his desk. “All right,” he said. “I’m listening.”

“Good,” Stark said, “because Alexander Pierce is the new Hydra Supreme and I have proof.”

“I’m gonna need to see that,” Fury replied. “And it better be good; Alexander Pierce is a personal friend of mine, and that’s a heavy accusation.”

Tony pulled his phone out, poked at the screen, then handed it to Fury. “Play that.”

Fury tapped the screen and the video started to play. It showed a man, blond and handsome, in his early to mid forties, standing in front of a red banner with a black, betentacled skull device. He was giving a speech about order and chaos, and about how the world needed a strong hand to guide it. And he finished off the speech with the words “Hail Hydra.”

Fury looked up at Stark. “Where the hell did you get this?”

And Stark explained.

When Stark was done explaining, Fury leaned back in his chair with an explosive sigh. “You could have saved the computer for me.”

“No,” Rogers said immediately. “I know what SHIELD does with things like that. It had to go.”

“You could have let me _look_ at it.”

“No,” Rogers repeated. “If we’d let you look at it, you’d want to keep it, and then we’d be fighting over that rather than focusing on our common enemy. Rollins says there are a few hundred Hydra agents in SHIELD; he’s given us a partial list, but there’s got to be a roster somewhere.”

“If you’re right about Pierce,” Fury said, “he’ll have it.” He looked down at the phone still in his hand, then offered it back to Stark. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re right about Pierce. I just don’t understand _why._ His father fought in the 101st, for Christ’s sake.”

“No accounting for how some people were raised,” Stark said facetiously, and he was unperturbed by Fury’s glare.

“All right,” Fury said. “We need to do some searching. His office is here; let’s start there.”

~*~

Fury got them access to Pierce’s office in the Triskelion; it was nearly at the top of the building, a high-security suite that included a state-of-the-art SCIF that included a multi-user holographic interface which, Fury said, was used for communications and meetings with the other members of the WSC.

They called Natasha to join them and, under Fury’s watchful eye, the three of them tossed Pierce’s office like professional burglars. Tony, with help from JARVIS, broke into Pierce’s computer while Steve went through paper files and Natasha hunted for secret drawers and wall safes. She found both, but there was nothing in files or secret compartments that gave any indication about Pierce’s double dealing. There was, to Tony’s voluble dismay, also nothing on the computer.

“We’re in the wrong place,” Natasha said finally. “We need to be at his house. He’s not going to keep anything here; this office is too public and he might have to vacate at a moment’s notice if he decides to stop being Secretary of State or it gets taken away from him.”

“All right,” Tony said. “Field trip.”

“We need a warrant,” Fury interrupts.

“Oh, bullshit,” Steve replied. “You didn’t need a warrant to bug that apartment you put me in, the one in Queens.” He smirked at Fury’s expression of surprise. “Yeah, you didn’t think I knew about that, did you? Why do you think I moved into the tower?”

“You mean it wasn’t for my love and companionship?” Tony gasped. “I’m hurt!”

Steve laughed, clapping Tony on the shoulder. Then he turned to Fury. “Let’s go. I know you can get us in.”

Reluctantly, Fury went with them.

Most of the house was pristine, untouched and showing no signs of anything amiss. It was only in the master bedroom and its en suite bath where there were signs of Pierce’s flight: clothes half off hangers in the closet, a suit tossed carelessly across the bed. The bedcovers were mussed in a way that indicated a suitcase had been placed there; the tracks of its wheels were visible in the pile of the carpet.

“He definitely took off in a hurry,” Natasha said, pointing out all these signs.

“Not surprising,” Tony said. “I think I put the fear of the FBI into him.”

“I still wish you hadn’t done that,” Steve said. “It’s just going to make it harder to find him.”

“JARVIS will find him; not to worry.” Tony patted Steve’s back. “Let’s see what we can find elsewhere in this place.”

“His office is this way,” said Fury, who had been to the house before. He led them from the bedroom back up the hall and through the living room into Pierce’s luxuriously appointed office.

  
They all stopped and stared. “Well,” said Steve after a moment, “this certainly makes things easier.”

“Why the hell would he leave that there?” Fury asked, staring at the huge Hydra flag. It was hanging on the wall behind a picture that had been removed and set aside on the floor.

“Couldn’t take it with him on an airplane,” Tony said, pulling his phone out to take pictures. “Too much chance of his luggage being searched or opened.”

“He had to know somebody was going to come in here and find this,” Natasha pointed out.

“At that point he must have figured he was as good as outed anyway, so why bother hiding it?” Steve deduced. “Let’s see what else we can find in here.”

“Start behind that flag,” Natasha said. “There’s probably a safe.”

There was, in fact, a safe; it was unlocked, its door ajar, and totally empty. On the table beneath its door, though, sat a small lockbox; it was flung open, and it contained a wide variety of passports and other forms of identification. All of them bore Pierce’s picture and a variety of different names and countries of origin.

“Well,” Fury said, tossing aside a Spanish passport for Miguel Ortiz, “now we know how he got out of the country without getting diplomatically flagged. If we just knew where he went.”

“Argentina,” Steve and Natasha said in unison. “Nazis flock together,” Steve added.

“And there’s no extradition,” Natasha pointed out.

Tony was busy at the desk, fooling with the iMac. “This is slagged,” he said, sitting back and looking discontented. “I don’t know how he managed it without opening it, but it’s destroyed. Not even JARVIS would be able to get into this thing.”

“He has a laptop,” Fury pointed out.

“He’ll have taken that with him,” Tony replied. “What else is in that safe? Anything?”

“Nothing,” Natasha said. “It’s cleaned out.”

“Cash, probably,” Tony mused. “And jewelry or whatever.” He sighed. “Well, we’re screwed.” He stood up, and something clicked. He looked down. Then, very carefully, he lifted his left foot. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What have you got, Tony?” Steve asked.

Tony leaned over. When he straightened back up, he was holding a USB stick. “Jackpot.”

“He must have dropped it by accident,” Steve said softly. “We’ve got to see what’s on it.”

“We’ll have to take it back to Fury’s office,” Tony replied. “When I say the Mac is slagged, I mean it’s _slagged._ I’d be willing to bet the whole inside is melted down.” He tucked the flash drive into his pocket. “Let’s see what else we can find.”

They ended up finding nothing else; after they’d finished searching, Fury grabbed the Hydra flag and the lockbox of identity papers and they left the house.

Back in Fury’s office, Tony took a spare SHIELD laptop, disconnected it from the internet, and plugged the flash drive in. Fortunately, it was nothing more than a data drive; there did not appear to be any malicious software on it. Instead, it contained documents – thousands of documents – related to Hydra and its activities. There was even – unbelievably – a _membership roster_ that gave the names and affiliations of all the American Hydra members: police, military, SHIELD agents, FBI, Secret Service, private citizens… Congress members…

Tony stared at the document in amazement. “Holy shit,” he said softly. “Stern is on this list. I _knew_ there was something shady about him.”

“Means nothing,” Natasha replied. “There’s shady stuff about tons of people in Congress who aren’t Hydra.”

“True, but this is extra shady,” Tony replied.

“You just think that because he wanted to make you give him the armor,” Steve argued.

“Yeah, but he’s literally _on this list_ ,” Tony pointed out.

“Children,” Fury interrupted. “We now know for a fact that these people are Hydra. It’s time to deal with them.”

“Okay,” Steve said, turning to face Fury and then moving to sit in one of the chairs in front of Fury’s desk. “What’s the plan, then, Fury?”

“A full-scale round up of Hydra members and agents,” Fury replied. “Beginning with those in SHIELD.”

“Is that even feasible?” Natasha asked. “I mean, we’re talking three hundred people.” She gestured at the laptop Tony was still poking at.

“Three hundred and twenty-four,” Tony specified. “From levels one to seven.” He paused. “Looks like Sitwell was telling the truth about Ward and Garrett, whoever they are,” he said to Natasha. “Both names are on this list.”

“Ward?” Fury demanded. “Grant Ward?”

“Grant Douglas Ward,” Tony replied. “Says so right here. Level 6 SHIELD operative.”

“Shit,” Fury said. “I had plans for that kid.”

“Might want to cancel them,” Tony advised.

“Okay, so what’s our play?” Natasha asked.

Fury sat down at his desk to think about it. “One fell swoop,” he finally said. “We can’t risk leaks leading to large scale escapes.”

“You won’t get everyone,” Natasha agreed. “But you can get most of them. Where will you send them?”

“They’ll go to the Vault,” Fury replied. “There’s enough room there to hold them.”

“And we publicize the names of the ones who get away?” Steve asked.

“They go right up on a ‘wanted’ list,” Fury agreed.

“What about the other organizations?” Tony asked. “The military, the cops, all that?”

“We’ll share the lists, but everyone has to clean house on their own,” Fury replied.

“We’ll publicize the lists,” Steve replied. He looked over at Tony. “You keep telling me how great the internet is for sharing information; let’s prove it.”

“You want to put this list on the internet for everyone to see?” Tony asked, a little stunned.

“What grows in the dark dies in the light,” Steve replied. “We need to expose Hydra for who and what they are.”

Tony looked over at Natasha, who shrugged slightly. “Suits me,” she said. “When it comes to Hydra, nothing’s out of bounds.”

“We can dump a whole bunch of this information on the internet,” Steve added, getting up and coming to look over Tony’s shoulder. “Once we know what it all is, I mean.”

“We want to be careful about releasing _everything_ ,” Tony replied. “There’s stuff in here from decades ago – I wouldn’t be surprised if there was Winter Soldier files in here.”

Steve gnawed his lower lip for a minute. “We should talk to Bucky before we release anything related to him.”

“Definitely,” Tony agreed.

“Stark,” Fury said, “you copy that data. Leave me a copy of it and take a copy of it with you. You’ve got the computing power and – more importantly – an uncompromised system. Find me what I need to put these motherfuckers out of business.”

Tony smirked. “Now you’re speaking my language.”


	12. Chapter 12

The first thing Tony had JARVIS search for was anything related to Bucky, whether it included his name or his code name. Any files that had anything to do with the Winter Soldier were immediately quarantined so that Bucky could look at them himself later. Then they began sifting through years and years of Hydra files.

Darcy decided to help. She set up shop in Tony’s lab, which was the only place where the files could be accessed, and started going through them with him. Together they built a database of what they were dealing with.

There was a lot; in addition to membership rosters dating back to Operation Paperclip, there were mission reports, directives and orders, scans of messages and letters, emails, photographs and videos – a virtual treasure trove of Hydra documents. It took them two weeks to go through it all, even with JARVIS’s help.

While Tony and Darcy worked on general Hydra files, Bucky worked on the ones relating to himself. He sorted the files into folders based on whether or not they contained information that should probably be classified, whether or not they contained information about assassinations or other crimes he’d committed, and whether or not he felt comfortable exposing the contained information to the public. That final category was the most important, in Darcy’s opinion, but Bucky said that some information needed to be exposed regardless of whether he was comfortable with it or not. And Bucky was probably right, but that didn’t mean Darcy had to like it.

Finally, though, they made it through everything, and it fell out as follows:

  * There were seven hundred twenty-two active or retired Hydra members in the United States. Most of these individuals were in SHIELD or local police departments, though many were also in other branches of law enforcement, and a troubling number of them were active-duty military.

  * There was enough information to incriminate ten former and three sitting U.S. Representatives as well as six former and three sitting Senators.

  * Hydra membership did not seem to pass through families; in fact, in many of the communications that Darcy read, Hydra members expressed concern that their families might find out about their affiliation and ostracize them.

  * The above only applied to Hydra members who _had_ families; judging from some of the communications she saw, Hydra recruiters were actively targeting individuals with few to no family ties, probably because they were more vulnerable to the indoctrination.




Once they were satisfied that they’d squeezed out all the information they could from the files, they passed their findings on to Fury, who looped in some of his own trustworthy analyst staff to see what they could find out. Then it was just a matter of waiting until the right time.

Fury arranged the mass takedown of SHIELD/Hydra agents with extreme care, handpicking the agents he wanted for the team and using only individuals he knew he could trust to keep quiet.

Darcy, working with the Avengers’ newly minted PR team, arranged a press conference for the same day as the SHIELD operation; at the very moment that SHIELD would be going to war against itself, Bucky Barnes would be standing at a podium in front of cameras and news people, announcing his return and reintroducing the threat of Hydra to a complacent world.

~*~

The day came sooner than they expected, and yet somehow it seemed to have taken forever to arrive. Bucky was jittery all morning, and all the hugs Darcy and Steve could give him didn’t seem to help. He finally shucked his nice clothes, put on some sweats, and went to the gym to run off his nerves on the treadmill.

Once he was gone, Darcy and Steve looked at one another in trepidation. “Are we sure he can do this?” Darcy asked softly. “I know it’s important, but if he’s not able to…”

“I might have to do it instead,” Steve agreed. “I’ll talk to him about it when he comes back. It won’t hurt to let me introduce him, let him talk about himself for a bit, and then let me take over and announce the Hydra business.”

Darcy nodded. “It’s going to be really overwhelming for him, being up there for the first time,” she said. “It might be _better_ to do it that way.”

“How did you present it to the press when you did the release?” Steve asked.

“We said that Captain America wished to address the press and the world on matters of vital importance to everyone who supports freedom and, uh…” She paused. “I forget. Mostly bullshit about freedom and democracy.” She made a face. “You’re going to _have_ to go on FOX News and lose your temper one of these days; I can’t keep pretending you’re the saccharine caricature tradition has built over time.”

“ _You_ can’t?” Steve asked, laughing. “How do you think _I_ feel about it?”

Darcy grinned. “I can’t imagine,” she admitted. “Like I said, you need to go on FOX and lose your mind. Then you can go on _The Colbert Report_ and let Stephen Colbert lose _his_ mind over you.”

Steve shook his head. “You know I usually only get about half of what you’re saying, right?” he teased her.

“Don’t start with me; you know who Colbert is.”

He laughed. “I like him. He’s funny.”

“He’s got a replica of your shield as part of his set dressing,” Darcy said. “Did I show you?”

“Yeah, you pointed it out to me,” Steve nodded.

“Couldn’t remember.” Darcy went into the kitchen. “I’m hungry. Want a snack?”

“Oh, we should make candied bacon.” Steve followed her into the kitchen and went hunting for the brown sugar. “Also, you should go ahead and move in.”

Darcy, who had been reaching for the bacon in the fridge, paused, leaning back to look at him around the fridge door. “Say what to whom?”

“I said you should move in,” Steve said. “Bucky says you’re still keeping your place downstairs, and that’s kind of silly, because you spend all your time here with us. You should go ahead and move in.”

“I am almost certain there was a question involved in that,” Darcy said evenly.

Steve grinned, pulling out the brown sugar. He rounded the fridge door and leaned down to kiss her gently. “Darcy, darling,” he said, “would you like to move in with me?”

She laughed. “Oh, all right,” she said. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He kissed her again, then took the bacon when she handed it to him. “I love candied bacon,” he announced as she got out two cookie sheets and the aluminum foil. “I definitely fought a war for candied bacon.”

“Cinnamon or no cinnamon?” Darcy asked, hand hovering in front of the spice rack.

Steve thought about it, then shook his head. “Nah, not this time.”

They worked together to make the treats, coating the strips of bacon with brown sugar while the oven preheated. They decimated the contents of one of the sheets themselves as soon as it was cool enough to eat, but the contents of the second sheet were still intact when Bucky came back from the gym. “What smells so good?” he asked as he entered. “Bacon?”

“Candied bacon,” Steve told him from the couch, where he lay with his head in Darcy’s lap as they watched an old episode of _X-Files._ “You coat bacon with brown sugar and then bake it until it’s nice and crispy.”

“Oh, that sounds amazing,” Bucky said.

“We saved you plenty,” Darcy told him. “After your shower.”

“That your nice way of telling me I stink, dollface?” Bucky asked, grinning.

“Oh, was it nice?” Darcy asked, grinning back. “Because holy _shit_ do you stink.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky replied, flapping a hand at her, and he went to shower. When he came back out, he went to the kitchen and tried out the bacon. “Holy shit, this is like meat candy,” he said, his mouth full of crispy deliciousness.

“Some people call it pig candy,” Darcy agreed. “It’s delicious and we don’t make it often enough.”

Plate of bacon in hand, Bucky came around the couch to sit in one of the chairs. “So hey, Buck, me and Darcy were talking about the press conference this afternoon, and we think we should maybe change how we’re gonna do it so you don’t have to do so much talking,” Steve said.

Bucky looked up at him, naked relief on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Steve reached over and filched a piece of bacon off the plate. “So I think what we should do instead of you talking about how Hydra is back, you should let me introduce you, then you can get up and say your piece about who you are and what happened to you, and then I can take over again and do the part about how Hydra is back and it’s time for us to step up.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “That sounds… that sounds a lot better, frankly. I didn’t like to say it, but I really wasn’t sure I could carry the whole thing, and I was afraid of locking up in the middle of it.”

“Well, Buck, I won’t lie and tell you it’ll be easy,” Steve warned him. “When you’re in front of all those faces and all those cameras, it’s a lot. A _lot_. But we should mostly have a sympathetic crowd, and I can take care of any of the ones who are assholes.”

“You mean FOX,” Bucky said with a smirk. “Darcy showed me them.”

“They’re _awful_ ,” Steve agreed. “I’ve come close to calling them out more than once, but Darcy thinks I need to honeytrap them.”

Bucky tilted his head. “How so?”

“I think he needs to go on, like, _Fox and Friends_ or something and let them try and bait him into saying something horrible and right-wing, and then he can just lose his hairy little mind on them.”

“Oh, that would be hilarious,” Bucky agreed. “You should definitely do that.”

“Maybe I will,” Steve said, grinning. “Maybe I just might.”

“Let me know when you want to do it,” Darcy said. “I’ll work with the PR people to get it set up.”

“PR?” Bucky asked.

“Public Relations,” Darcy explained. “They’re the people who are in charge of making sure the Avengers look good in the media and that people keep a positive impression of them.”

“With this lug to worry about, I bet that’s a full time job,” Bucky said, gesturing at Steve.

Steve said, “Hey!” but also laughed, so it was obvious that he wasn’t going to argue.

Darcy grinned. “So far it hasn’t been terrible for them; but then, there hasn’t been very much going on. Even Tony hasn’t been in the papers.”

“‘Even Tony?’” Bucky asked.

“Never google Tony,” Steve warned him. “Not even with Safe Search on.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, rubbing at her forehead. “Tony has… a checkered history,” she explained. “He – well, I think it has a lot to do with his parents dying, but he was really into alcohol and – I suspect – drugs, for awhile. He got in the news a lot, but never in a good way, even though he did a lot of good things. Everything he did, all the charity work and everything, was overshadowed by his… exploits.”

“Ah,” Bucky said softly. “I get it.”

Darcy nodded. “So, yeah. Tony’s… well. Like Steve said, don’t google Tony. Not unless you want to risk finding one of his sex tapes.”

“Sex tapes?” Bucky asked.

“ _One of_?!” Steve repeated.

Darcy sighed. “Oh, boy.”

~*~

Tony and Pepper gave conferences related to Stark Industries often enough that they had built a press room on the second floor of the tower; The Avengers gathered in the green room, which was adjacent to the press room, to wait for their cue. Bucky had his speech written out on a sheet of paper, and he was sitting in a chair in a corner, reading it over and over. Steve was pacing, every so often glancing up toward the door to the stage, which was blocked by a huge curtain. He knew that the press was gathering on the other side of that curtain, even though the green room was soundproof and he couldn’t hear them.

The other Avengers were arranged around the room in varying stages of nervousness; this was actually their first press conference as a team, and they were none of them really comfortable with it.

“I shouldn’t even be here,” Natasha said. “I’m going to be ruined for undercover work.”

“You already are,” Clint assured her. “There’s too many videos of you fighting the Chitauri.”

“Not helping,” Natasha replied.

He shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not.” He grinned at her. Fortunately, she grinned back.

Bruce and Tony were sitting together on one of the couches, studying something on Tony’s StarkPad and poking it with styluses. Neither of them seemed even the slightest bit aware that they’d be in front of a worldwide audience very soon.

Darcy, who had been talking to the PR people in the hallway, entered the room along with the head of the PR team. She went to Bucky immediately, sitting down in a chair beside him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Okay?” she asked.

He nodded, swallowing hard. Darcy reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a ziploc bag. “Here, I brought more bacon for you.”

He laughed. “You’re a mess, doll,” he told her, but he took the bag and popped a piece of the bacon into his mouth. Then he handed the bag back to her, and it disappeared into her pocket again. “I’ll be okay,” he told her.

“All right, folks,” the PR head – a young man called Michael – called their attention to him. “We’re going to get started in just about two minutes. Ms. Lewis tells me there’s been a change to the programming, but it’s just a matter of speakers changing places, so there’s no need to worry about it unless you’re one of the speakers in question.”

Tony’s head shot up. “Lewis, are you going to let me speak?”

“No,” Darcy replied. “Steve’s speaking on the return of you-know-what instead of Bucky.”

Tony looked disappointed, but Darcy just shook her head at him.

“All right, is everyone ready? Any last minute questions or concerns?” Michael asked. When nobody had any, he nodded. “All right. About a minute, then.” He stepped out of the green room into the backstage area, pulling the door shut behind him, and then disappeared onto the front of the stage, presumably to call everyone to order.

Darcy squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go out there and find a seat,” she said. “If you get nervous, you can just look at me and talk directly to me. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.” Then he smiled at her, astonishingly sweet even after everything he’d been through. “Thanks, Darce.”

“Anytime,” she assured him, and left the room through the hall door.

Steve came over and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “Okay?” he asked.

“No,” Bucky admitted, a wan expression on his face. “But I’ll muddle through.”

“That’s the spirit,” Steve told him, grinning. “We’ll muddle through together.”

“Easy for you to say, chorus girl.”

“Hey, now,” Steve warned, but he was still grinning, so Bucky knew it was okay. Bucky grinned back.

The green room door opened. “Avengers,” Michael said, “We’re ready for you.”

~*~

Nick Fury took a deep breath, watching on the news as the Avengers filed onto the stage in Stark Tower. There was a lot of shuffling and noise and the snap and flash of cameras taking pictures, and then they were all seated at a long table. Rogers sat at the far right end, closest to the podium, with Barnes at his left; once everyone was settled, Rogers got up and walked over to the podium. He tapped the mic and cleared his throat.

Fury picked up his phone and dialed a number.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” Captain America said to the gathered press corps.

“Go,” Nick Fury said.

~*~

“Thank you for joining us today. It’s very, _very_ important to me that my message get out to everyone around the world, and so I’m very glad to see the BBC, Al-Jazeera, CNN, and other international networks with us as well as our trusty U.S.-based outlets. I’m really grateful that you all came.”

Steve took a deep breath.

“We’re here for two reasons today; I have two announcements to make. The first one is regarding a new Avenger who will be joining the team.” He paused, then took a deep breath. “Some months ago, we discovered a piece of machinery under Fort Lehigh, which is a shut-down Army base in Wheaton, New Jersey. This machinery, we discovered upon inspection, was a remnant of a cryogenics project that we have since learned was spearheaded by Dr. Arnim Zola, a Hydra scientist who was brought from Germany to the United States through Operation Paperclip. I will have more information about this after we’re done, if anyone wants it.”

He held up a hand when people started trying to shout questions. “I am not taking questions until after. Please hold your questions until then.”

Once everyone had settled back down, Steve returned to his notes and his prepared speech. “As I was saying, we discovered a piece of cryogenic equipment. And we discovered that it contained a person who had been cryogenically frozen.” He held up his hand again, waiting for the hubbub to stop, before continuing. “Through careful work, Dr. Banner and Tony Stark were able to safely resuscitate the individual inside the tank.”

The reporters virtually exploded with questions; Steve waited until they had calmed again. “The individual inside the tube, who I will introduce in just a moment, was an American soldier who was captured by Hydra soldiers in 1944 and subjected to…” Here he paused, clearing his throat and shaking his head. “Torture. I will _not_ be providing the prurient details; he can decide what he wants to tell you, if anything. He’s been recovering with us for the past several months, and is doing well enough now that we – he, as well as the rest of us, feel comfortable introducing him to the world. His code name will be the Winter Soldier – you can all write that down – but his given name is James Buchanan Barnes.”

There was another explosion of sound and camera flashes, but Steve ignored them; he gestured to Bucky, who came up to join him at the podium. Bucky flinched away from the noise and the hullabaloo, looking for Darcy in the crowd. He found her at the back of the room and she smiled, giving him a wave. He nodded, giving her a slight smile back, and then turned his attention to the crowd of news people.

“Hi,” he said into the mic, and they all started shouting questions at him. He shook his head. “I’m not answering questions,” he said, repeating what Steve had told him to say. He held up his paper. “I have a prepared statement if you’d like to listen.”

Steve stepped back from the podium, going to take his seat, and Bucky spoke, reading directly from his paper without looking up at the reporters, who were hanging on his every word.

“In 1945, during a mission to capture the Hydra scientist Arnim Zola, I fell off a train in the Swiss Alps.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t remember falling, or landing – fortunately. I don’t remember being found and rescued. But I do remember waking up in a Hydra facility and learning that I was a prisoner of war; I remember having my left arm removed and replaced with an experimental prosthetic – ” and here he raised and waved his metal left arm “ – and I remember spending months in captivity. I remember the first time I was frozen.” He paused again, shaking his head. “I remember a lot of things. Things nobody wants to hear about, and things I definitely didn’t want to live through.”

The room was dead silent now; Bucky cleared his throat, looking around at the assembled press, and then looked back down at his paper.

“Hydra made me do things. Bad things. And I expect I’ll have to answer for some of those things. But the Avengers have been gracious enough to give me the space and time and resources that I’ve needed to heal, so in the only way I know how, I’m going to try and pay them back and make up for the bad things I’ve done by joining their team and helping to try and make the world a _better_ place.” He took a deep breath. “That’s all I’ve really got to say. I’m not taking questions because I already know what you’re going to ask. I don’t want to and don’t intend to talk about what I’ve been through, not unless I have to. But I do have a message to send.”

He looked up from his paper then, his eyes hard and his voice cold. “I’ve got a lot of revenge coming to me for what people in Hydra did to me. Just know I’m coming.”

He stepped away from the podium, and Steve stood. He gave Bucky a hard, tight hug, and then let Bucky sit and returned to the podium himself. He held up a hand at the barrage of questions. “I’m not answering any more questions about Bucky,” he said. “What he’s been through is frankly not anyone’s business except his. But I do have something else to say: the second announcement I intend to make. And for this one, I have a presentation to go along with what I have to say.”

JARVIS, at this cue, dropped a screen behind the assembled Avengers and projected a still image onto the screen: Alexander Pierce standing in front of a Hydra flag, his arm raised in a Nazi salute. The assembly gasped and began to buzz with conversation.

“Yes,” Steve said over the noise. “This is exactly what you think it is. This is visual evidence that Alexander Pierce, the U.S. Secretary of State, is a Hydra agent.” He waited, and the still image started moving.

“ _Hydra will bring order to the chaos,_ ” said the Pierce on the screen. “ _We will rule humanity and bring about peace for a_ _hundred_ _generations!_ ”

From off screen, several voices shouted “ _Hail Hydra!_ ” and Pierce shouted it as well.

The video clip stopped, and Steve leaned into the mic just a little bit. “This is far from the only evidence available, and we will be making all that evidence available to the press today and the general public via the Internet beginning tomorrow. I assure you that nothing we will be releasing has been tampered with in any way, and we invite any and all experts to examine the photographs and videos we have in order to verify their veracity.”

He took a deep breath. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said firmly, “I have a directive to fight Hydra. More than that, I have a moral responsibility to do so. And so do you. Hydra wants to control us, to rule the world. They want to take away our freedoms. Well, I’m going to fight them, and I’m asking you to do the same thing. I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not.” He stepped away from the podium.

~*~

By the time Captain America was done speaking, three hundred seventeen turncoat SHIELD agents were in custody and on their way to the Vault. Only seven had escaped from the agents intended to arrest them. Two of those apprehending agents had lost their lives in attempting to capture their targets. Very few of the Hydra agents were trying to pretend they were innocent; most had hailed Hydra immediately upon arrest.

No one bit down on a cyanide tooth, not even the higher ranking individuals.

~*~

As soon as the press conference was over – Steve took no questions, but a couple of interns passed out USB drives full of the information they intended to release – the Avengers left the stage in the press room and immediately headed, en masse, back up to their common room. “Jesus,” Bucky said, flopping down on a sofa and gripping a throw pillow tight. “I don’t ever want to do anything like that again.”

He was shaking with reaction, and Steve went into the kitchen to make hot chocolate – Darcy’s universal cure-all – to help him calm down. He made enough for everyone, and added whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon to every cup. They all sat down around the conversation pit and sighed. “I’m glad that’s over,” Clint said. “Are we going to have to do that every time something happens?”

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid so,” said Michael, who had come up in the elevator with Darcy. “Or at least, as your PR specialist, I advise it. People need to know that you’re _people_ – and they need to understand what you do and why you do it. Otherwise they’ll be afraid of you, and nobody wants that.”

“Good point,” Clint said, even though he didn’t look too happy about it.

“I won’t bother you for long,” Michael said. “I just wanted to let you know that you looked great up there, and that Steve and Bucky _did_ great.” He paused, then looked directly at Bucky. “I’m sorry for what you went through,” he said. “My grandfather fought in the war; he was in North Africa, fighting the Nazis there. I don’t like Nazis.”

Bucky gave him a thin smile. “I’m not a big fan either.”

“Well. Just know I’m glad I’m on your side.” Michael nodded at him, then turned and ducked back into the elevator.

Darcy came and sat beside Steve, stealing a sip of his chocolate. “You guys did great,” she said, leaning against his arm. “Especially for people not used to this kind of thing. I was very impressed.”

“Hey, speak for yourselves,” Tony said. “I’m _very_ used to press.”

Darcy smirked at him. “Yeah, but you’re not used to keeping your mouth shut in front of the press,” she pointed out.

“Touché,” he replied.

“Anyway,” Darcy said, “you guys did good.”

“Have we heard from Fury yet?” Natasha asked. “JARVIS?”

“I’m afraid not, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS replied. “I can call, if you like.”

“No, he’ll call us,” she said. “I don’t want to interrupt. He’s got to have all hands on deck and all his attention on the op.”

Even as she finished speaking, JARVIS said, “I spoke too soon, Agent Romanoff; Director Fury is calling right now. Shall I put him on the big screen?”

“Yes, please,” Natasha said, and Fury’s face appeared on the huge television screen. “What’s the status?”

He told them. There was silence as he spoke, and then when he was done, there was an air of satisfaction in the room. “Good,” Steve said firmly. “Circulate the faces of the ones that got away; we’ll find them.”

“Whether we do or don’t, we’ve got other fish to fry,” Fury replied. “I’m passing on Pierce’s list to my counterparts in other branches; the FBI and – well, you know. You saw the list before I did. I want you people to be the front face of this fight.”

“That’s not a problem,” Bucky said softly.

There was a moment while Fury studied Bucky, and then the director said, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to you. If I’d had any idea it was going on…”

“Well, you didn’t, so let’s not dwell on it,” Bucky replied. “It’s nobody’s fault but Zola and Hydra, and since Zola’s been dealt with, it’s time to deal with the rest of it. I want some high profile targets.”

“How about a senator?” Fury asked. “I can get you a warrant to arrest Stern; I can have it this afternoon.”

“Yes!” Tony exclaimed with a little too much enthusiasm. Everyone who remembered his Senate performance tittered.

  
Darcy patted Steve’s arm. “We’ll show you the video of his last Senate testimony after this call,” she said. “It’s definitely something worth seeing.”

“How soon can you all be in Washington?”

“Couple of hours,” Clint replied. “We’ll need to pack.”

“Do that,” Fury replied. “I’ll expect you in my office in an hour.” He ended the call.

“JARVIS,” Tony said. “Show these fine young gentlemen the news reports of the last time I was in Congress, won’t you?”

On the screen, Tony appeared, looking a bit disheveled and slumping in his chair. Senator Stern called Justin Hammer to speak. “Skip this part, skip this part,” Tony said. The film jumped forward to display a handsome Black man entering the room. Tony’s voice on the recording said, “ _Rhodey?_ ”

“Skip this part, too,” Tony said.

On the screen, Tony took control of the television screens that the Senate committee had been using and began displaying security footage of other people’s attempts to create an Iron Man suit. “I’d like to laugh,” Tony in the room said, “but people died in those attempts. Even Hammer’s.”

“Yeah, that’s not so funny,” Steve said.

On the screen, Hammer managed to unplug one of the screens and then tried to do damage control; Tony offered final words to Senator Stern: “ _I did you a big favor! I have successfully privatized world peace._ ” He stood up and turned, flashing peace signs at the gathered crowd. “ _What more do you want?_ ” he demanded of them. Then, pointing at Stern, he continued: “ _I tried to play ball with these assclowns._ ” 

And then, of course, came the big finale, as Tony made his way out of the Senate chamber: “ _My bond is with the people. And I will serve this great nation at the pleasure of myself. If there’s one thing I’ve proven it’s that you can count on me to pleasure myself._ ”

  
Steve passed a hand over his eyes. “Only you, Tony. Only you.”

Tony grinned broadly. “Damn right, pal: only me.”

~*~

Fury met them in his office, handing Steve a piece of paper without any fanfare. “That’s your warrant,” he said. “I’m deputizing the Avengers as independent agents so you have the authority to execute this warrant. He’s on Capitol Hill right now, in a budget committee meeting.”

Steve nodded. Tony grinned fiercely. “He’s ours,” he said. “Any others?”

“You want to pick up Laughlin, too?” Fury asked. “She’s not in any meetings today; you’ll have to find her.”

“Not a problem,” Tony said, and Fury retrieved another paper from his desk for them.

“Once you have them in custody, bring them to me,” Fury said. “Call me when you’re on the way and I’ll meet you downstairs.” _Downstairs,_ they knew, was where the holding cells were.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not giving them special treatment as Congress members?”

“Should I?” Fury shot back.

“Hell no,” Steve replied. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Get out of here. Bring me Stern and Laughlin.” Fury gestured toward the door.

The group of them split up; Steve and Tony went to Capitol Hill to apprehend Stern, while Bucky, Natasha and Clint went looking for Laughlin. None of them wore their tac suits; they didn’t feel that it would be necessary for high-profile takedowns like these.

Tony and Steve were right; they accosted Stern as he came out of the meeting, right in front of some news cameras in the Capitol Rotunda. Steve caught Stern by the arm and put him into handcuffs while Tony, grinning like an absolute fool, announced, “You’re under arrest, Senator Stern, on SHIELD authority, for being a Hydra agent.”

“Hydra?” Stern asked, starting to sweat and trying to look confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t try to play coy,” Tony said. “Your buddy Pierce accidentally left a list of names behind. You’re listed as third in command.” He smirked. “Must be embarrassing to have come in line behind her; isn’t she a junior congresswoman?”

“Fuck you, Stark!” Stern shouted. “I’ll see you brought down!”

“I already see you being brought down,” Tony replied. “And your friends, too. Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of company in prison.”

Tony paused, turned, and waved at the cameras, which were all trained on Stern and the two Avengers. “Hello, America! Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, working hard to keep you all safe.”

“Captain Rogers! Mr. Stark! Why are you taking Senator Stern into custody?” one of the reporters called, her voice echoing around the Rotunda.

Steve smiled grimly. “Ma’am, this man is a Hydra agent,” he said. “I’m happy to provide proof at a later time; my colleagues are currently apprehending one of his co-conspirators and I don’t want to say anything that might endanger that operation.”

There were a number of other questions from reporters, but they blurred together, and Tony waved a hand. “Later,” he said. “We promise.”

Steve gave Stern’s cuffed wrists a shake. “Let’s go,” he said.

They led him out the back of the building, where there was a secure parking area, and shuffled him into the back seat of a rented car. Then Tony took the wheel and they headed for the Triskelion.

Bucky, Natasha, and Clint did not have such an easy time of things; they found Laughlin at her Williamsburg home, gardening –  _gardening! –_ in a flower bed. They climbed out of their own rented car and started toward her across the grass. 

“Senator Laughlin?” Bucky asked as they approached.

Amelia Laughlin turned her head and looked at them, then dug into the soil at her knees. From under a rosebush, she drew a small pistol and pointed it at them. “Don’t come any closer,” she ordered.

  
The three of them stopped, and Natasha put her hands up. “All right, you don’t need that. We’re just here to – ”

“I know what you’re here for, Black Widow,” Laughlin replied. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know what happened at SHIELD yesterday.”

Natasha nodded slightly. “All right, then you know why we’re here.”

“You might as well come quietly,” Clint said, his voice careful. “You’re not getting away.”

“Oh, you don’t think so?” Laughlin replied. “You don’t think I can get away when I start screaming about how I was attacked in my front yard by a gang of people who – ”

“Oh, shut up,” Bucky snarled. “You’re not gonna do anything with that thing. You don’t even know how to hold it right.”

In response, she aimed at him and pulled the trigger.

She missed, shooting about three feet to his left, and as she was trying to recover from the recoil, Bucky pulled his own gun out. Before she could even get off her knees, he was standing behind her with the muzzle against the back of her neck. “All right,” he said softly, “you’re going to stand up now. Very slowly. And then you’re going to come with us and you’re not gonna make a fuss about it.”

“Mom?” came a teenage boy’s voice from the front door of the house. “Mom, what’s going on? I heard a – it sounded like a gunshot!”

“Evan, go back in the house,” Laughlin called without looking at him. “Everything’s fine.”

“Mom, who are those – is that – oh my god, are you the Avengers?” The boy was getting closer.

“Evan, go back in the house!” Laughlin shouted.

“No!” the boy replied. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s go, Laughlin,” Bucky said softly.

“Hail Hydra!” Amelia Laughlin replied, and fell to the ground, froth filling her mouth and spilling over onto the fresh earth.


	13. Chapter 13

What followed was a sudden and significant round-up of every Hydra agent that could be found within the military and three- and four-letter alphabet agencies. A number of major police departments – Chicago, New York, and Los Angeles, for starters – also conducted round-ups of Hydra members within their ranks. Many smaller departments did not; over the following week, there were rashes of firings and quittings, though, and even a number of disappearances when known Hydra agents vanished into the ether – or, more likely, into secret Hydra bases. Missing persons reports went up all over the country as husbands and wives came home to find their spouses gone, money gone, and children abandoned.

The Avengers found themselves fielding press questions and demands for answers nearly every day to address issues of disappearances, arrests, and so forth. Finally, they held a press conference to (hopefully) put to bed all the questions they were fielding. They almost unanimously elected Steve to lead the conference, since he and Tony were the only two people with press experience and Tony’s was obviously not the best example to follow.

“Good morning, everyone,” Steve said to the press room at large, and tried to ignore the camera flashes and shutter clicks. “I understand that you all have a lot of questions, so I’m going to read a statement and then take a few of your questions.”

The reporters, of course, started shouting questions; Steve held up a hand. “I  _said_ I’m going to read a statement  _and then_ take questions.”

The reporters, who had never seen Steve get testy before, settled down quickly.

“Thank you,” Steve said into the ensuing silence. “I understand that there is a lot of concern about the recent wave of arrests and disappearances, but folks, that’s the nature of the beast we’re fighting. They have a mantra: ‘cut off one head and more will take its place’, which is a reference to the hydra of Greek myth. But we are not cowed by this reference, because we are educated as well by that myth. 

“You see, in the story, Hercules was sent to destroy the hydra, but he was unable to do it alone. He needed his friend and companion Iolaus to help him. And what they did was this: Hercules would use his sword to cut off one of the heads of the hydra, and Iolaus would come in with a torch and cauterize the stump before it had a chance to regenerate. 

“And that’s what we’re doing now. We’re working as a team, and coordinating with government agencies, to find these Hydra agents, root them out, and destroy them, root and branch. And we honestly could not have done all this had it not been for the chance discovery of Bucky Barnes in that basement lab at Camp Lehigh – so you all, in a very real way, have him to thank for the work we’re doing now to keep you all safe.”

“Captain Rogers,” one reporter called out, “what about the rumors that the Winter Soldier is himself a Hydra operative?”

Steve glanced over at Bucky, who nodded and stood up. He crossed the stage and took Steve’s place at the podium. “You want to know about me, you can ask me direct,” he said simply.

“All right,” the reporter said, firming up his jaw. “So what about it? Are you a Hydra agent, too? Or would you even admit it if you were?”

“If I was, I sure wouldn’t admit it,” Bucky replied, nodding. “So I’ll go ahead and tell you again what I’ve said before. I was held as a prisoner of war, captured by Hydra agents, and I was made by them to do things. Bad things. And I’m working now to try and make amends for what I did when I was their weapon.” He paused. “And for more personal reasons, too.”

“What personal reasons?” another reporter asked.

Bucky smiled grimly and admitted, “Revenge.”

There was a long silence in the room after that, before anyone else finally worked up the nerve to ask another question.

~*~

Once the purge of national entities was mostly complete, Steve and Tony went to the guest suites to visit Rollins and Sitwell, who were still imprisoned in the tower. They were sharing a suite with two bedrooms and a common living room and kitchen area, and it was not suiting either of them well at all. Nobody was dead, but they were both clearly miserable.

“Congratulations,” Tony said to them when he and Steve entered the room. “You’re getting out of here.”

Rollins came to his feet, surprised. “You’re letting us go?”

Steve laughed. “No,” he said simply. “But you’re leaving the tower.”

“Where are we going?” Sitwell asked nervously, but the look on his face said he already knew.

“You’ll be meeting up with your octopus friends at the Triskelion,” Tony told him. “And after that, my understanding is that there’s a lovely resort being spruced up just for Hydra agents. I think it’s called the Vault.”

“Oh, come on,” Rollins said. “We’ve cooperated, given you every bit of information we could. Surely that counts for something.”

“That would be something to discuss with Director Fury,” Steve replied. “It’s possible he could see his way to something more… accommodating. But I wouldn’t swear to it, and if I were you, I wouldn’t count on it, either. He’s not been in the best of moods when it comes to turncoats.”

“Oh come on,” Rollins said again. “You can’t tell me Stern and the other high-levels are going to the Vault. They’d never put a senator into general population.”

“No, you’re right,” Tony replied. “The most high-level agents we can find, the ones who don’t decide to bite down on their cyanide capsules, are going to the Raft.” He tilted his head, studying Rollins. “You think that’s a better option?”

Rollins went pale. “No,” he said simply.

“That’s what I thought.” Tony looked smug. “See, here’s the problem, Rollins: you picked the wrong side. You shouldn’t have hailed Hydra. This is where being a low level villain gets you.”

“I’m willing to renounce Hydra,” Sitwell said suddenly. 

Tony and Steve both blinked at him. “Sorry, you what?” Steve asked.

“I’m willing to renounce Hydra and testify to whatever you want,” Sitwell repeated himself. He looked over at Rollins, who was staring at him in shock. “You should, too, if you’re smart.”

“Fuck you, traitor,” Rollins snarled. He lunged at Sitwell and got one good punch in to the man’s mouth before Steve jumped over the couch and pulled him back. “You’re a dead man, Sitwell,” Rollins warned him.

“O _kay_ ,” Tony said. “Now that our friendly roommates won’t be so friendly any more, I think it’s time to go.”

“What about my offer?” Sitwell asked, touching his mouth with the back of his hand and then grimacing at the blood he saw there.

“You’ll have to make it to Fury,” Steve said. “We don’t have any kind of authorization to accept deals.”

“Shit, Fury’ll never believe me,” Sitwell said, despairing.

“Tough luck for you,” Tony said, reaching for Sitwell’s arm. “Come on; we’ve got places to be.”

~*~

“Devin,” Darcy said, opening the door to Tony’s office, “would you come in here for a second?”

“Sure, Miss Lewis,” Devin replied, getting up from his desk and coming into Tony’s office. “What can I do for you?”

“Come sit down,” Darcy said, moving to sit behind Tony’s desk and gesturing at one of the chairs in front of the desk. As she did so, a hulking shadow appeared in the doorway: Happy had arrived. He followed Devin into the room, shutting the door behind himself and standing in front of it.

Devin looked over his shoulder at Happy, a little nervous, and then came to sit down in front of the desk where Darcy had indicated. Darcy pressed a button on the phone and said, “We’re ready when you are.”

A moment later, the connecting door opened on the side of the room and Pepper entered from her own office. “Darcy, Happy,” she said, greeting them. Then she looked down at Devin. “Mr. Parkinson.”

Devin had begun to sweat; Darcy could see it glistening at his hairline. “Miss Potts,” he greeted her. “What, uh.” He looked around at Happy, then back to Darcy and Pepper. “What can I do for you?”

“Explain this,” Pepper replied, leaning over Darcy’s shoulder to look at the monitor on the desk. “ _Nobody seems to know what he’s got in that lab; you can see through the window of the door that it looks like a bunch of really old computer equipment, but nobody knows why it’s there._ ”

“Uh,” Devin said.

Darcy picked up the thread. “ _Kelvin says there’s some kind of machine spread out on the floor of his personal workshop that looks like an exploded diagram of a really fucked up dentist’s chair, but I don’t have access to get on that floor and I haven’t found an excuse to go yet. I keep seeing Lewis go in there all the time, but she never sends me._ ”

Pepper read the next one. “ _There’s some new guy shadowing Captain America; he looks like a hobo half the time but I see him going in and out of the labs and Stark’s workshop._ ”

“I can explain,” Devin said after a moment.

Darcy tilted her head. “Please do,” she invited.

“Uh,” Devin said. “Well, you see…” He trailed off.

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “We’re waiting. While you’re explaining, perhaps you can explain the emails you’ve been sending to michael.freeman@hammerind.com.”

“I, uh.” Devin tried again, but he couldn’t seem to make any words come out.

“Devin, we’re going to cut you some slack,” Darcy said. “You’re going to tell us absolutely everything, and we’re going to let you go without pressing charges. How’s that sound?”

Devin swallowed hard. “I honestly didn’t learn much,” he admitted. “But I’ll tell you what I know and what I’ve passed on.”

Darcy pulled out a legal pad and a pen. “Go ahead,” she said simply, and Devin started talking.

~*~

“All right,” Bucky said that night. “Me and you, tomorrow, out and about.”

Steve looked up. “Me?”

Bucky glared at him. “You see anybody else in here?” he asked. “Oh, wait, no you don’t, because Darcy’s out having a girls’ night with Nat and Pepper and Jane.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Where are we going?”

“I just told you: out and about.” Bucky smirked. “For one thing, I wanna go back to Strand. I need books.”

“You’re seriously only buying them because you want to fuck with Tony, aren’t you?”

Bucky laughed. “Not  _only_ because of that,” he said. “But at least a third of the reason. I actually do just want books, though. Look at all these shelves, and all you have on them is a few pictures and some bowls and things. Boring. You need  _books._ ”

Steve grinned. “Yeah, okay, point. You can start filling the shelves, then. I think Darcy has a bunch of books she’s going to bring up, too, when she gets her stuff up here.”

“She does. I’ve already borrowed like three of them off her.”

“Is she done with that scary book yet?”

“Almost,” Bucky replied. “I’m reading it as soon as she’s done.”

Steve hummed. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be into scary books.”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know if I am or not. Honestly, I don’t remember much of what I liked to read before – or even if I did.”

“You did,” Steve told him, voice soft. “We used to buy pulp novels used for a nickel apiece and we’d read them, then go back to the bookstore and trade ‘em in for new ones.”

“Like science fiction and stuff?” Bucky asked.

“Oh, sure,” Steve agreed. “Science fiction, detective stories, anything we could get our hands on. I remember there was one book that we got that was all ocean stories – pirates, sea captains, you name it – and for a little while all we could talk about was going to sail. That was when we were teenagers, you know, and it seemed like the whole world was at our fingertips.”

Bucky came and sat down on the sofa next to Steve. “It still is, you know,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“The world. It’s at our fingertips. We can do anything we want, you know? Pepper sat me down yesterday and talked to me about back pay and stuff – did you know I’m rich? And – well, I guess you did, since you’re rich too. We can do whatever we want. Travel, buy things, eat fancy food, anything we want.” He looked at Steve, then leaned in and bumped their shoulders together. “What do you want, Stevie?”

“You know,” Steve said slowly, “I always thought when I came back from the war I’d go back to art school.”

“You could do that,” Bucky said. “That would be awesome.”

“What about you?” Steve asked. “What do you want to do?”

Bucky took a deep breath. “I kinda want to do something with engineering,” he admitted. “You remember I always used to tinker with the engine on Pop’s car.”

“I remember,” Steve agreed.

Bucky sighed, getting up and wandering over to the windows. “It’ll have to wait, but I’ll get there.”

“Why does it have to wait?” Steve asked. “Why not start now? Tony can teach you all kinds of things, and then when school starts up, you could go to NYU.”

Bucky turned and gave Steve a thin smile. “I’ve got work to do first,” he said. “I’ve got Hydra to find. I’m not letting this fight go by the wayside. I want Pierce.”

Steve nodded. “We’ll get him,” he said. “In the meantime, though, you should really talk to Tony about working in his lab. He’s got some pretty amazing stuff in there.”

“I know it,” Bucky replied. “I wanna learn how to build a robot like DUM-E. How cool would that be, having a robot all of our own?”

Steve laughed. “More than anyone could imagine,” he agreed. “Can you imagine if somebody had come up to you a year ago and told you where you’d be right now?”

“Given where I was a year ago…” Bucky said, letting that sentence trail off.

Steve grimaced. “Sorry. But… you know what I mean, right?”

“Sure,” Bucky said. “Sitting in the woods in Germany, up to our asses in snow and fucking Hydra mooks, and have somebody tell me I’d end up living in the future in this super-high-tech tower with your crazy ass friends? Hell no, I wouldn’t believe it. I probably would’ve carried whoever it was to the med tent and had ‘em checked for a head injury.”

Steve laughed, then shook his head. “They’re  _our_ friends.”

“Hmm?”

“ _Our_ friends. Not mine. They’re your friends, too.”

Bucky nodded, thinking this over. “Yeah, I guess they are, aren’t they?” he admitted. “Crazy pack of weirdos.”

Steve laughed. “They are definitely that,” he said. “No crazier than the boys were, though.”

“I’m not sure _anybody_ could be as crazy as Dum Dum.”

“Me either,” Bucky agreed.

Steve got up and crossed the room to stand beside his friend. “Buck… I don’t know if I’ve told you this.”

“Hmm?”

Steve chewed his lip. “This is a hard thing to say, because I’m not – not  _glad_ , you see. About everything you’ve been through. It’s horrible, and I want to go down to the Vault and kill every last Hydra agent down there for what they did to you. All of them. But Buck… I’m sure glad you’re here.”

Bucky smiled, reaching up to clap Steve’s shoulder. “I know what you mean, pal,” he said softly. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” Then he reached up and whacked Steve on the back of the head. “That’s for crashing a plane into the fucking ice and not giving anybody coordinates to come get you, you dumbass.”

Steve went very still for a minute before he looked away from Bucky. “I couldn’t take it,” he said finally. “After everything, everything we’d been through… I couldn’t take the idea of living in a world without you in it. And when it came time to make the call… I just thought,  _well, I’ll see Bucky again, I suppose_ .”

Bucky pulled Steve to him and hugged him hard. “And you did,” he said softly against the side of Steve’s neck. “Here we are.”

Steve laughed wetly. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” he admitted, “but I’ll take it.”

~*~

The next morning, Steve woke late. He and Bucky went out for a leisurely breakfast, then went to the bookstore when it opened. They both came out carrying large paper sacks full of books, and they stopped on the sidewalk to peek into each other’s bags. Both of them made noises of excitement – “Oh, I can’t wait to read that! You have to let me read it when you’re done!” – and then they wandered through Manhattan toward the Veterans Affairs center. They stopped for Starbucks and street hot dogs on the way, and by the time they arrived at the center, Steve had mustard down the front of his shirt and Bucky was wiping relish off his face with the back of his hand. 

Bucky looked at Steve. “We’re a mess.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “Yes, we are.”

They went in and greeted the young woman at the reception desk. “We’re here for the support group,” Bucky told her, and she nodded, smiling. “Right back there on the left,” she said. “There’s coffee if you want it. Just have a seat wherever.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, and the two of them headed to the room she’d indicated.

They didn’t need coffee, so they grabbed a couple chairs in the back of the room and put their bags down on the floor. They talked quietly about random things as people slowly filtered into the room, nodding greetings at them.

Finally, a young Latina woman entered the room. She looked around with satisfaction, then spotted Steve and Bucky. She headed directly for them. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Elena; I’m the meeting facilitator. Good to meet you.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, and offered his hand to shake. “I’m Steve, and this is Bucky.”

She shook both their hands, then gave them a megawatt smile. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I always like to see when new veterans make their way to us.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said softly, shaking Elena’s hand. “It’s… well. I don’t know if I should say it’s good to be here or not, honestly, considering how we got here. But, yeah. You know what I mean.”

Elena laughed. “I do know what you mean,” she promised. “Listen, don’t feel pressured to share if you don’t want to; there’s a lot of people who come and just listen. You won’t be alone. But if you do choose to share, you’ll be welcome.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. 

Elena nodded. “Glad you’re here,” she said again, then turned and walked away, moving to greet a young woman at the door.

Bucky and Steve sat down again. “Well,” Steve said, “at least we know we won’t get called on to speak.”

“I was a little nervous about that,” Bucky admitted. 

Steve nodded. “I feel like I might want to just listen today,” he said. “Get the lay of the land, so to speak.”

Bucky nodded, watching the door as other veterans filed into the room, singly or in twos and threes. By the time Elena called the meeting to order, there were about fifteen people in the room, not including Bucky and Steve; being in a gathering of so many strangers was making Bucky a little nervous, but having Steve beside him comforted him. If anything untoward happened, Steve would have his back.

~*~

When they left the group meeting, both of them felt a little drained. It had been hard, listening to the others tell stories of their service and of how it affected them: nightmares, flashbacks, drug addiction, alcohol dependency. So many of them had come back from war broken, and while it helped to know that they weren’t alone, it also hurt to know that others were hurting, too.

When they arrived back at Steve’s apartment, they found Darcy arranging a plant stand in front of the windows. She grinned at them when they came in. “Hey,” she said. “How was your day?”

“Decent,” Steve said, coming over to drop a kiss on her lips. “We went to that group session.”

“Oh, how was it?” Darcy asked, turning away from the plants to look back and forth between them.

“Good, I think,” Bucky said. “I’ll go back again, for sure. It was… it was good to know that we’re not alone.” He wandered into the kitchen for a protein shake, and Darcy turned to Steve. 

“That’s the best thing about a support group like that versus therapy,” she said. “Therapy’s very focused and one-on-one, but a support group lets you share your experiences with people who will understand from a lived perspective.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “What you said.”

Darcy laughed. “People who’ve been there,” she explained.

“Yeah,” Steve said. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “It’s sometimes good to talk about it with a sympathetic ear, but I think it’s going to be very good to have someone to talk to that… well. Sometimes when I tell you things, I censor them, because you genuinely wouldn’t understand. But with someone who’s been to war, who’s seen the kinds of things people can do to one another… Yeah. It’s different.”

Darcy nodded. “I can’t be everything for you,” she admitted. “Tough as that is to say.”

“You wouldn’t want to be,” Steve told her. 

She smiled. “No, I wouldn’t. You need people other than just me to lean on.”

He kissed her gently. “I’m glad we both know that,” he said. “I wouldn’t want us to end up – what’s that word Tony used? Codependent?”

Darcy laughed. “Yeah, that would  _not_ be healthy.”

“Besides, I’m codependent enough with Bucky as it is.”

Bucky came out of the kitchen, shake in hand. “Somebody taking my name in vain?”

“Always,” Steve replied. “I was just pointing out to Darcy that you and I are a little codependent.”

Bucky paused, googling the word on his phone, before barking out a laugh. “ _A little?_ ”

Darcy shook her head. “You two are fine,” she said. “You lived in each other’s back pockets your whole lives. That’s not codependent, it’s just who you are.”

“It’s a little codependent,” Bucky disagreed. “But it’s not unhealthy. I don’t think so, anyway.”

“I’ll let your therapists decide that with you,” Darcy said. “It’s definitely not my business.” She grinned.

“Speaking of your business,” Steve said, “how’s the moving coming along? Are you ready for us to come get your boxes?”

“Yeah, I’ve got everything boxed up. Some of it’s going to storage, but I’ve marked those.”

“We’ll come do that tomorrow,” Bucky said. “In the meantime, I wanna take you two to dinner.”

“Oh, who’s cooking?” Darcy asked.

Bucky shook his head. “I mean out. Pepper says I’m rich, and she gave me a credit card I can use anywhere, so I wanna take you guys out.  _Out_ , out.”

“Oh, okay,” Darcy said. “Should I dress up?”

“Nah, just someplace casual. You guys know all the places around here, right? You can pick.”

“Sounds good,” Darcy said. She came to his side and tiptoed to drop a kiss on his cheek. “Let me go get cleaned up and we can go.”

She disappeared into the master suite and Bucky came to Steve’s side, clapping him on the shoulder. “Pal,” he said, “codependent or not, I’m glad we’re here.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed softly. “Me, too.” Then he grinned at Bucky. “So, how do you feel about pizza?”

~*~

As the sun came up over Villa Maria, Argentina, Alexander Pierce stood on the balcony of his new, lavish apartment and stared at the sky. Fucking costumed heroes. Fucking Captain America. And that fucking  _Asset._ He was ruined; everything he worked for destroyed in one fell swoop. He’d seen the news about the purges of Hydra agents from federal agencies, and he knew it was gone – all of it.

Well. Not gone, not really.

He took a sip out of the glass of milk in his hand.

He’d just have to start over, that was all. Hail Hydra.

\--FIN--


End file.
